Shampoo's Revenge
by Skysaber
Summary: Let's see what can be done without any sort of crossover at all, just let them behave reasonably with the resources at hand.
1. 1

Shampoo's Revenge   
by Skysaber 

Ranma kicked the girl in the face. Hard.   
It had really been child's play to block her strike, step forward,   
meet her charge and pummel her. The girl's strength was decent. Her   
speed, however, was abysmal. Ranma dodged her pathetic attempt at a   
counterattack and leapt in to drop a flurry of kicks over her chest and   
ribs. She sagged, guard down, perfect shot.   
Ranma launched her to the moon.   
His classmates at Furinkan High School were used to exhibitions and   
fights every morning, but this one had most of them staring. Ranma   
tossed back his head. Yeah, it had been good. This one had been even   
easier than that Kuno creep. Scratch yet *another* wimpy challenger.   
A pair of of Ranma's friends came over, that is if you could call   
Hiroshi and Daisuke his friends. "How did that get started?" Hiroshi   
asked in wonder, looking in the direction that Ranma's opponent had   
vanished.   
Ranma turned to walk to class, his hands held behind his head. "Aw,   
she came up to me, shoutin' insults. And *nobody* gets away with saying   
that kinda stuff about me."   
"Well," offered Daisuke, "she *is* your fiancee..."   
Ranma doubled over as if punched in the gut. Righting himself he   
yelled. "WHAT? I've got *another* girl coming after me? Claimin' to be   
my fiancee? Oh, man! How many have I got NOW?"   
Hiroshi and Daisuke exchanged a glance. "Well," Hiroshi began after   
a moment, "I thought someone said she was your first."   
Ranma scratched his head. "Well, no. I've had tons of girls *claim*   
that, but I ain't never seen her before. And if I don't take 'em in the   
order I got 'em I'll never sort through 'em."   
"So who is the first?" Daisuke wanted to know.   
Ranma began counting on his fingers. "Well, I don't know how many   
times pops engaged me as a kid. But there was that time I beat up   
Shampoo in China, that counts. Then Ucchan showed up, and I can   
*remember* her from way back when Pop an me were on that training   
mission, so I don't know if that makes her first or second. Then Pop   
had to go and give his blessing to Kodachi when things were tight at   
the dojo..."   
Three girls from his class ran up to him, steaming, angry and   
shouting. "How could you do that to Akane?"   
Ranma blinked. "Who?"   
Hiroshi nudged Daisuke and spoke in a stage whisper. "Y'think maybe   
Akane hit him in the head once too often?"   
Daisuke nodded and tried to look thoughtful. He didn't do a very   
good job. "Could very well be."   
"Oh, like someone around here's good enough to tag me on a regular   
basis? Get real." Ranma rolled his eyes.   
This managed to penetrate even the anger of the three girls. "You   
mean you REALLY don't remember Akane?"   
"Who?" Ranma blink-blinked.   
"You know! AKANE!" The exasperated girls chorused.   
"Hey, isn't that one of those things people paddle down rivers?"   
The martial artist was scratching his head thoughtfully.   
"No, that's a canoe." Daisuke corrected.   
Ranma slapped his palm. "I got it! A small, yellow songbird!"   
Hiroshi and Daisuke looked at each other before the former   
responded. "No, that's a canary."   
"That guy who killed his brother Able?"   
"No," Hiroshi groaned. "That was Kain."   
"You KNOW, *Akane!* Your FIANCEE!" Sayuri and the other two girls   
shouted.   
"What I got another one?!" The backpedal and double-take Ranma did   
were so obviously genuine that even the girls couldn't remain angry.   
Yuka cocked her head. Her friend's fiance was normally a little   
thick headed but he wasn't all that great an actor. She was starting to   
get really concerned. "Ranma, how could you forget Akane? Aren't you   
living with her family?"   
"Huh? What are you talking about?" Ranma stopped, puzzled. "Oh   
heck, we're gonna be late for class. Besides I live with Mr. Tendo and   
neither one of HIS daughters is interested in me." He ran off and leapt   
in the third story window.   
Behind him Hiroshi and Daisuke met the eyes of Yuka, Sayuri, and   
Tomoko. "Y'know, this seems awfully familiar, somehow."   
The girls agreed.   
In the background a plummeting figure trailing paper from a   
ruptured school bag fell heavily through the roof and into the men's   
section of a local bathhouse. The sign on the door said "We welcome the   
Prudish Men's Hockey League."   
Cries of "Pervert!" and "Peeping Lecher!" proceeded the sound of a   
thorough thrashing with hockey sticks. 

*** 

Mister Hisakawa sighed, stuck teaching a bunch of delinquents for   
yet ANOTHER year, and continued to call roll.   
"Ranma Saotome? Yuka Shiratori? Sakura Shori? Midori Takashima.   
Akane Tendo?" Hisakawa looked up, repeating. "Akane Tendo?" Still   
getting no answer, he asked. "Ranma, is Akane ill today?"   
"Who?" Ranma blink-blinked.   
"Akane Tendo, your usual companion in holding buckets outside the   
classroom. Is she ill today?" Hisakawa asked.   
"Who?" Ranma blinked again and spun his head around in confusion,   
looking for he didn't know what.   
Hiroshi stood up and bowed towards the teacher. Maybe he could make   
a few points with Sayuri by showing some initiative; she seemed to like   
that sort of thing. "Sensei, something's going on with Ranma, he   
doesn't seem to be able to remember Akane."   
"He can't remember the girl he is engaged to and accompanies to   
school nearly every day?" The teacher droned. He was about to send the   
impertinent liar out into the hall when he suddenly recalled who it was   
they were talking about. With Saotome just about anything was possible.   
Compared to that neko thing this was tame.   
Hiroshi nodded. "Yes, in fact he beat her up when she tried to hit   
him today."   
Everyone who hadn't been at the earlier event was now staring at   
Ranma.   
"Oh dear," Hisakawa said while rubbing his forehead, making future   
connections the students hadn't thought of yet. "I suppose that means   
the usual 'beat on Akane to date her' sessions will be resuming, then."   
"ALL RIGHT!" Several of the male members of the class were openly   
pleased by this announcement. Most of the girls openly scowled at them.   
"Hey did somebody mention a fight? What's the big deal?" Ranma   
scratched his head and wondered what all the fuss was about.   
Midori, one of Nabiki's factors, tapped her pencil against the   
table thoughtfully. There were so many angles to explore here, Nabiki   
might not see it because her own sister was involved, but she'd always   
been willing to exploit Ranma's weaknesses before.   
Midori waited until the furor was past before asking permission to   
go to the bathroom. She needed to get this information to Nabiki as   
quickly as possible. 

*** 

Ukyo chewed fretfully on the tip of her pen, her eyes never leaving   
Ranma. He couldn't remember Akane? How..... POSITIVELY WONDERFUL!!!   
Okay, calm down. The poor guy was probably all broken up. A glance   
at him snoring on his desk dispelled that idea. He was as relaxed as a   
furry tomcat napping in the sun. The thought gave her a sudden impulse   
to scratch him behind the ear and see if he purred.   
Maybe he *would* with that neko thing. The image came to her of   
sitting with neko Ranma curled up in her lap, purring as she scratched   
him behind the ear. She almost began purring herself right there in the   
classroom.   
Back to reality. So he wasn't broken up. Well, his family will   
probably have fits. Except his family was Genma Saotome and did she   
care?   
Ucchan grinned. Nope! She still owed Genma for a stolen dowry and a   
ruined childhood.   
Just as she was about to act on that thought her last and largest   
doubt surfaced and Ucchan returned to chewing her pen and looking at   
her fiance.   
That left Akane, didn't it?   
A moment\0xD5s thought was all it took. They weren't really good   
for each other anyway. With all the fighting they did it was a wonder   
Ranchan wasn't hospitalized by now. Sure, the girl may be a little   
upset but she'd get over it. And it's not like friendship extended to   
giving away your one true love to someone who abused him all the time!   
Besides, who was to say they were even friends? Since when had Akane   
ever done anything nice for her?   
Never look a gift miracle in the mouth, right?   
On that, Ukyo began to happily write a note. 

*** 

Wheezing, disheveled, and dripping water, Akane Tendo limped her   
way towards school with bruises shaped like hockey implements all over   
her body. Ranma was going to pay for this!   
Her ripped schoolbag suddenly opened along the bottom seams and a   
small flood of water, pens, soggy homework, and already-warping   
schoolbooks hit the cement with exactly the sort of wet sploshing sound   
you would expect from such a thing.   
Now glowing blue, with one eye twitching, Akane gathered the   
sopping mess up and began to stride a little faster towards the school,   
ignoring her limp. 

*** 

Ranma accepted the note that was delivered to him, noting the cute   
lil' spatulas drawn in around his name. He opened it.   
It said. 

"Hey Ranchan,   
Heard you got in a fight this morning. Who was it this time? Wanna   
have lunch together and talk? 

Ucchan." 

Ranma looked back over his shoulder and smiled, Ukyo beamed at him.   
He went back to his desk and fumbled around in his pockets for several   
seconds looking for a pen, until finally the girl to his side (not the   
side of the empty desk) slipped him one.   
He wrote back. 

"Ucchan,   
Sure! I'd love to have lunch with ya! (unintelligible scribble)   
It's not like I got anything else I gotta do with my time, right? 

P.S. Aww, just some jerk callin' me a buncha names. Even Kuno was a   
better workout. 

Ranchan." 

He passed the note back and Ukyo gleamed, already planning on   
offerings at the local shrine. The long-imagined dream of returning   
home and being reaccepted by her family returned. Only this time   
instead of being welcomed back as an avenging angel she was coming home   
beside Ranma as his bride!   
Life was *SO* wonderful!   
Little floating sakura petals and pretty hearts started drifting   
lazily out of that corner of the classroom. 

*** 

A wet, glowing, and thoroughly annoyed Akane appeared in the door   
of the classroom already well into a towering rage.   
Mister Hisakawa chose the 'Prudent Teacher' option of when class   
was interrupted by extreme-property-damage levels of violence, meekly   
pretending invisibility behind his teaching stand. Most of the class   
froze in their seats.   
Ranma turned to his neighbor. "Hey, who's the tomboy?"   
Fortunately, that poor soul never got a chance to answer as five   
feet of feminine fury charged into the room with a lethal cry of   
incoherent rage, already manifesting a mallet of monstrous proportions   
in a devastating swing.   
Ranma's counterstrike was possible only to someone who was able to   
move his body about with eelike agility and impressive strength. He   
bent double to avoid the horizontal swing of the mallet (which tore   
apart his desk around him) then flipped his feet up with enough force   
to catapult him in a vault of over a dozen yards.   
Except that this force intentionally caught his attacker under the   
chin, transferring all that shock and power up through her jaw and into   
her cranium. 

*** 

Nabiki closed the classroom door and started to walk with her   
factor to the third story girls' bathroom. Her expression was slightly   
less dry than normal but with a touch of warning. "Okay Midori, what   
was so unusual that you had to get *caught* tapping on the door window   
to get my attention?"   
The floor and one wall burst asunder in a spray of brick and dust,   
producing one thoroughly unconscious Akane in a tattered, wet, and now   
muddy school uniform. Footprints marred her jaw, while other bruises   
marked her body.   
Midori met her boss' startled gaze with one so calm she was   
inwardly laughing at it. "Ranma is defending himself against Akane."   
She managed in an utter deadpan. 

***   
Flashback, the night before 

The window to the guest room where both Saotomes slept crept open,   
and a dark figure dashed in. Silent as a shadow the window closed   
again, then a figure knelt above Ranma, producing a bottle and   
hairbrush.   
"Shampoo do right this time."   
Three distinct washings of the hair followed. Then the figure   
vanished and was gone. The room's occupants slept on, oblivious.   


--------- 

Author's Notes: 

The FFML guys wanted variety. So I thought I'd give them some.   
Besides, when you look into deeply explored characters, the field of   
Akane-as-a-ragebucket-and-pathetic-background-character has been vastly   
underrepresented. 

Besides, I might as well earn the flames I'm getting, right? What   
better way to use the hate-energy I'm getting over one work than to use   
it to fuel another? Not that I *want* any such energy, but rather than   
let it burn me out I think I'll divert it here.   


Author's Total Insanity: 

I AM RazorSpam! 

I AM The Eternal Fried Spam! 

I AM SpamSaber! 

I AM One-Spam and Saotome-Spam! 

I AM Spamson! 

I AM Blackspam and Heart of Spam! 

I AM Spam-Ohki! 

I AM the Once and Future Spam and Thy Spamward Part! I AM A Very Scary   
Spam and Spam Muyo! I AM All Spam and No Spam, Every Spam yet No Spam,   
without beginning of Spam nor end of Spam, and I wave my flaming   
tentacles of Spam upon you. 

There, I feel beter now. 


	2. 2

Shampoo's Revenge 2   
by Skysaber 

Glomp!   
"Ranma happy to see Shampoo, yes?" The amazon appeared with both   
lunch and affection where Ukyo and Ranma were already sitting together   
under a tree.   
"Hey..." Ukyo's objection died in her throat. Rather than getting   
ready for combat she instead looked thoughtfully aside. She owed the   
amazon a little after what she'd done for her. This was the best day   
with Ranma she could remember since they were kids! She hadn't laughed   
and felt so relaxed with Ranchan since before his father stole the   
yattai. It had been a great day, and Ukyo didn't kid herself that he'd   
forgotten about Akane by accident.   
Out of a bush nearby arose a towering figure of fury.   
"RAAAN..."   
Punt.   
Both remaining girls looked as the trailing form of the enraged   
schoolgirl gradually disappeared near the horizon. Once again it broke   
through the roof of a building, this time a contest arena bearing the   
sign "Championship Martial Arts Groping Tournament Today."   
Shrieks of outrage lit the sky.   
Bits of a Furinkan girl's school uniform poofed out of the hole in   
the stadium's roof as challengers attempted to unseat the local area   
champion. Shampoo was smiling as she fed Ranma another mouthful of   
noodles. Before Ukyo could collect her wits from the menagerie of   
events a throat was cleared behind them. Turning, they saw Nabiki at   
her most confident.   
The middle Tendo was clapping lightly.   
"Oh, *very* good, girls." She was momentarily ignoring Ranma's   
presence. "But I'm afraid the scheme's up. Shampoo, you're going to   
reverse your mind technique on Ranma or I'm afraid I'm going to have to   
tell him all about what you've done."   
Shampoo'd found a moment to be feeding noodles to her Airen. She   
put down the chopsticks and grabbed his cheeks, speaking an inch from   
his face and staring directly into Ranma's eyes.   
"Ranma? Shampoo use Ancient Chinese Secret Technique, make you   
forget girl named Akane. You no upset at Shampoo?"   
Ranma licked noodles from his face. "What? Upset? Have you done   
anything? Why would I be upset at you? The noodles are great! What's to   
be upset over?"   
Shampoo didn't release her grip, moving her eyes so close their   
noses were touching. "You no understand! Shampoo use Xi Fang Hang Gao   
Shiatsu technique make you forget about nasty, wicked, pervert girl.   
You no mind?"   
Ranma blinked for one long moment, then snapped his fingers.   
"Hey! You mean that you used some kinda technique on me? Is *that*   
why my head feels so good today? I'd been beginning to think that the   
pain would *never* go away! You made that get better, right? Man, no   
*wonder* I feel so good. Even Doctor Tofu couldn't make my headache get   
any better. Is that some kinda healing technique, could I learn it?"   
Shampoo released Ranma and resumed feeding him noodles. "Ranma   
learn all Chinese Amazon techniques when marry Shampoo. We go back to   
village and train long time while raise family, yes?"   
Shampoo shot a look back over her shoulder at Nabiki, to see the   
girl's knees had locked and many of her hairs toinged.   
Ukyo couldn't help but chuckle at the way the older girl looked.   
"Heh, looks like blackmail's not gonna be an option for your side this   
time, is it sugar?" She served up an okanomiyaki and met Shampoo's   
eyes. They both were the big players on the field right now, but   
rocking the boat could upset that for both of them. Besides, Ukyo   
figured she owed Shampoo a big one for doing this to begin with. So...   
Shampoo was feeling gracious in her superiority. She scooted aside   
and gave room to Ukyo as they both shared in taking turns feeding   
Ranma.   
Nabiki had the uncomfortable sensation of having had the floor   
ripped out from under her. Standard operating procedure was a little   
threat and everything would go right back to normal. These things were   
even amusing when they happened in that light. She quickly ran through   
all her options and came up with...   
... none?   
Nabiki *couldn't* threaten to reveal the scheme to Ranma, Shampoo'd   
just proven that not even perfect bluntness by the party involved would   
get through to him. She'd just been outmaneuvered. Her trademarks of   
threats, bribes and blackmail all worked on her opponent's fear of her   
revealing something, and Shampoo had clearly anticipated that.   
Next option on Nabiki's list was to acquire an auxiliary to use as   
an ally. She could still do that, but *maybe* she'd screwed Ukyo over a   
few too many times in deals past, because now Ranma's best friend and   
most powerful influence outside of Akane... scratch that, for purposes   
of this problem now she WAS the most powerful influence, was teamed up   
in at least a tentative cooperation with the other side.   
Bad, *bad*, BAD news.   
Nabiki reacquired a grin as the solution occurred to her. She waved   
and walked away. "Well, enjoy your brief victory, girls. Good Bye."   
Ucchan watched Nabiki leave and paused in her turn to feed a bite   
to Ranchan. "Shampoo, do you...?"   
The smug look on the Amazon stopped her.   
"Is already taken care of, Spatula Girl. Now you feed Airen or is   
Shampoo turn?"   
The bite of okanomiyaki was quickly fed and swallowed. Before he   
accepted a bite of noodles Ranma asked. "So what was that about? Is one   
of you fighting Nabiki? What's that about a victory?"   
Ukyo sat back on her heels as she watched him slurp up noodles. An   
idea occurred to her. "Ranchan? What would you do if Nabiki attacked   
us?"   
The martial artist's face darkened, gulping down his noodles he   
growled. "Hey, Ucchan, it ain't right to go fightin' anybody when they   
don't know martial arts. Ya got it?"   
"You Jackass!" She shouted back at him (still carefully taking her   
turn and scooping up a bit of food for him). "Don't you think I *know*   
that?! That's not what I'm talking about! Besides, even if they don't   
know more than a babe on its mother's knee it's okay to defend   
yourself! And you should know Nabiki better than that anyway. No, what   
I'm asking is what would you do if Nabiki were to use blackmail and   
dirty tricks on us? You ought to know better than anyone that if she   
wanted to get even with anyone she'd do it by spreading ugly rumors and   
embarrassing them in public! What would you do if she did something   
like that?"   
Ukyo sat back and let the amazon take her turn feeding Ranma. When   
his mouth was clear he asked.   
"Why would she want to do anything like that?"   
Shampoo and Ukyo both grinned as their eyes met each others.   
"Maybe Sneaky Girl want be Ranma's fiancee?"   
Ranma had a chill go up and down his spine.   
"Ranma no answer question." Shampoo took an extra moment while Ukyo   
whipped up another stack of okanomiyaki. "What Ranma do if Mercenary   
Girl attack Ukyo and Shampoo? What do when she ruin reputations, hurt   
business, spread lies and not make nice?"   
Ranma squirmed uncomfortably under the question. Finally, he said.   
"I dunno, stop her, I guess."   
"Oh?" Ukyo turned out a new stack of her favorite, and with a   
gesture of truce inherant in the motion, passed a fresh plate of her   
best to Shampoo as well, who took it, and after only a brief moment of   
hesitation started to eat, then began to inhale her meal as a sparkle   
in her face revealed just how *good* it was.   
Ukyo addressed Ranma while she was spooning up his seconds. "So   
Ranchan, how'd you stop her? Nabiki knows better than to throw a punch   
at you. She'd just spread lies and rumors about us all that'd make our   
lives a living hell. How *would* you stop her?"   
Ranma, busy chewing, slowed and slackened his pace. How *would* he   
ever stop Nabiki? He swallowed. "Uh, I dunno. Tell the truth, I guess.   
That outta work."   
Ukyo shook her head sadly, her ponytail swinging behind, and   
scooped up another mouthful for him, saying. "Sorry, sugar. But that   
'mercenary girl' is a whole lot better at telling lies than you ever   
are at telling the truth."   
Shampoo swallowed, her face a look of momentary bliss at the   
flavor. "Spatula Girl right. No one believe Ranma, Sneaky Girl already   
have advantage of many years lying. She very good liar. Ranma no very   
good at anything not involve fighting."   
That stung his pride. Ranma rose halfway up and shouted. "Hey! I   
can TOO do..." He slowed to a stop once he realized that he had no idea   
to call whatever all that stuff was that wasn't fighting.   
Ukyo smiled. Victory at last! "You mean that you can master   
civilized skills? That you won't always be a barbarian?"   
"Err, yeah..." Ranma tried to get his head around the concept.   
"Prove it." Ukyo sang triumphantly.   
"Shampoo no see what wrong with being barbarian." The amazon   
interrupted.   
Ukyo half turned to speak to the other girl. "Nothin against it,   
sugar. I just want to see if Ranma can do his own thing for a change   
instead of letting his father, Nabiki, or Mr. Tendo make all of his   
choices for him."   
"Shampoo think we talk this over later."   
Ukyo blinked. Had she screwed up? She tried to think of what could   
be the matter with what she'd said and came to the conclusion that it   
might screw with the mind thing that made Akane no longer an issue.   
Suddenly she felt bad.   
Ranma was rubbing his head. "So what kind a things are civilized?"   
Ukyo gave a desperate glance at Shampoo, not wanting to screw up   
whatever the Amazon'd done. Shampoo slurped the last bite of her   
okanomiyaki and acquired a wonderful grin, then wiped her mouth and got   
an even more clever smile.   
"If Ranma want be civilized, Ranma learn Chinese. Ranma learn   
respect elders and to take wife to date!"   
Friendship and allies only went so far, but Ukyo saw clearly how   
she could add on this and not lose her advantage without doing anything   
Shampoo hadn't done. She perked up, talking far more brightly. "Hey!   
That's right. Why don't you learn English as well. The act of learning   
new languages ought to make you better at your own."   
Ranma was about to ask what she meant when a sudden image came to   
him of speaking pidgin like Shampoo and he clamped his mouth shut,   
*sure* that was what they meant, and the idea appalled him.   
Ukyo was already forging on with glittery eyes. "And you could   
learn some manners about how to act with a girl so you don't embarrass   
her!"   
A picture appeared in Ranma's mind of him dressed in his father's   
gi with the same white bandana on his head shouting at and stepping on   
chibi Shampoos and Ucchans, like his father had done for years,   
embarrassing him in public.   
No. That idea was not fun.   
Lunches empty, they sat and talked for a bit. Even Ranma found it   
surprisingly pleasant. Part of him wanted to reflexively jump at   
shadows. Realizing the cause, both girls were very cooperative in not   
doing things that might startle him.   
Their own fights would come later. They *would* get that resolved.   
But for right now they were too busy enjoying a situation where they   
were winning, even if they had to share the limelight for awhile. The   
total issue had not been resolved yet, but each of the girls was   
enjoying much more pleasant time with their special loved one than they   
ever had before. In spite of their fierce competitiveness over him,   
neither girl felt an urge to spoil things when fighting each other now   
would just turn him back over to Akane, and they both knew it.   
Ranma could not believe things were going so well. A part of him   
kept crying out in terror, but a new part of him was ready to take   
whatever it was down and beat it until it whimpered. So, on the whole,   
he was finding it difficult to feel scared.   
Not feeling scared, two girls to pamper him, momentary peace, and a   
new and completely unused part of Ranma began to enjoy life.   
A completely inarticulate scream of fury tore across the yard and a   
red, glowing battle-aura enraged mallet bearing tornado appeared for   
long enough to get pounded flat into the ground and dragged off   
unconscious to the nurse's station by some friends of Hiroshi and   
Daisuke.   
Ukyo actually felt a tear come to her eye she was so happy.   
Shampoo looked smug beyond belief.   
Lunch regretfully ended a while later and both girls paused as   
Ranma stopped to beat the stuffings out of a short, black-haired girl   
who attacked him for no reason he could discern. The resultant pile of   
garbage would be dragged off again by those girls who were friends of   
Hiroshi and Daisuke's.   
Ukyo looked aside at her new chief rival. "Look, sugar, not that I   
mind the help or anything, but why? And aren't you the least bit   
worried about what Nabiki could do?"   
"You no worry about Nabiki. Sneaky girl very shallow and... what   
word? Easy to guess next move of. She think she much more clever than   
really is. Is very... predictable! That word. No last long in China   
where Triads try steal farm."   
"But won't she try to cure him? Like they did the last time?"   
"This no trial for Airen. He prove himself good fighter, very   
adaptable, learn new techniques very quickly. This no test of Airen, so   
no had to leave solution. Sneaky Girl be very surprised when try make   
Ranma remember if do same as last time. Shampoo think they not prepared   
at all." 

*** 

In the nurse's station, Nabiki sat next to her sister in the bed   
normally reserved for Kuno, where the younger girl was nearly   
recovering from the latest in a series of completely failed attempts to   
take out her fury on Ranma.   
"Hold it right there, Akane!" Nabiki put her hands on her sister's   
shoulders when the younger showed the slightest signs of stirring.   
"Running off again isn't going to get you anywhere this time."   
Eyes opened and went flatter and flatter. "THAT JERK!!!!"   
Akane raced off, screaming rageful things and manifesting a huge   
battle aura around the bed she'd been lying on, having grabbed it as   
the nearest and largest blunt instrument she could lay a hand on. It   
tore holes in walls of the school corridors as she passed, blowing out   
doors that she ran through.   
Nabiki sighed and leaned back. In moments Akane was carried back in   
on that bed by two male students, who excused themselves back to class   
after dropping off the unconscious Tendo.   
The slightly older girl taped her younger sister to the cot with a   
roll of duct tape she'd gotten from a member of the engineering club.   
When Akane woke she thrashed about for several moments, but in the end   
remained securely taped to the frame.   
"Are you going to listen this time?" Nabiki asked, looking up from   
her manga.   
Akane glowered.   
Nabiki put her magazine away, thankful that she'd thought to gag   
her little sister. "It's simple, Akane. I can solve this whole mess for   
you with *very* little problem. Interested?"   
Nabiki did *not* untape her youngest sibling's mouth, but Akane   
eventually got done glowering and finally nodded her head. Nabiki   
finished chewing on her snack cracker before she responded. "Good.   
Here's the deal. You agree to do any two things I ask you, and I'll   
give you Ranma back. Do we have a contract?"   
Nabiki looked up again from her magazine after her sister's tears   
of anger had finally subsided. She closed the book. "Okay sis, it's   
this way: Shampoo has erased Ranma's memory of you with that Xi Fang   
thing. But we all know that doesn't erase his emotions one bit. So all   
you've got to do to reverse it is engage his emotions about you, do   
that cute thing, and you've won the victory. Simple, right?"   
The girl taped up on the bed thought about it.   
Nabiki got up from her seat. "I'll let you think about it. I'm off   
to class. See ya!"   
Akane's battle aura engaged and in her rage she began chewing   
through the tape in her mouth. In seconds she was shouting. "Nabiki!   
Hey! Don't leave me in here all by myself! Tell me about the plan! And   
what if some pervert comes in here, huh?"   
"Fear not, my dear Akane." Kuno arrived in the door, rose in hand.   
He raised a wrist to his forehead in a noble and gallant pose. "Though   
thy sister hath abandoned thee, I, on Heaven's blessing, was located   
nearby. Thy cries have truly stirred me. For is it not I, the Blue   
Thunder of Furinkan High who is thy protector? Thy plea has risen to my   
ears and I do heed thy summons..."   
Then the kendoist got his first look at Akane all taped up to the   
bed. Her dress was all ruined and torn up in spots, though the last   
time she'd landed in a bath house had at least gotten her clothes   
clean.   
One badly abused strap parted and the two halves came off her   
shoulder.   
The girl sweated. "Uh, Kuno... hey, um..."   
"LADY AKANE!!!" Kuno shouted, flinging himself bodily over her and   
smothering his face in her breasts, then he rebounded and held his   
all-too-solemn face an inch away from hers. "Oh! That things should   
have come to this?!! That my love so sadly believes my heart has   
forsaken her that she would arrive at these dire straights in an   
attempt to woo me! Fear not! I shall prove my *love* to thee!"   
Akane sweated in terror as Kuno leaped off her bed and began to   
nail shut the infirmery door, all the while laughing maniacally.   
"NABIKKKIIII!!!!!!!!!!" The terrified scream echoed down the halls.   


--------- 

Author's Mad Chuckling. 

You know, I write this as therapy. You wouldn't *BELIEVE* how good   
it feels. Take two and call for Akane to be humiliated in the morning. 

Studio Aesir is down for the forseeable future, as we've had no contact   
with Celeste since January of 2001, and the last communication came from   
her brother who reported she was gravely injured. None of the rest of us   
have the capacity, passwords, etc to modify the site, and so it suffers from   
gradual web-rot. 


	3. 3

Shampoo's Revenge 3   
by Skysaber 

Akane walked funny as she was leaving the nurse's station at the   
end of school. To her *utter* embarrassment, Kuno had insisted on   
getting her bandaged, washed, perfumed and prettied and all the while   
had sprouted poetry and left bouquets of flowers around the room.   
Toward the end she'd been so confused and off balance she had sat on   
one of the bunches of roses, and now really ought to be spending some   
time getting thorn splinters out of her private parts.   
Her teacher chose that moment to make an appearance as she was   
trying to leave the school building, forcing her to stay and talk with   
him while all she wanted to do was go home and spend some time in the   
bathroom with a mirror and set of tweezers.   
Then she saw Ranma out of the corner of her eye, talking to Ukyo   
and laughing, and all hint of any claim she might hold on rational   
thought fled.   
"RAN...!"   
*Punt!*   
With a shove he sent her flying through several fences and into a   
brick wall at the back of a big house. Akane came to in a cloud of dust   
lying on something soft. When the smoke from smashing through the wall   
cleared, she realized that she was lying on stacks of money and picked   
up a couple of bags in disbelief.   
Then the door to the inner parts of the house opened and two grown   
men in Italian business suits and shades arrived to see what that sound   
was they'd heard in their vault, seeing Akane sitting before a hole in   
their wall with her hands full of their money as soon as they'd   
entered.   
They drew silenced machine pistols. 

That evening Ranma, with a girl on each arm, was leaving the movie   
theater with the bright starlight aglow showing their way home, while   
in the far distant background a black car pulled up to a bridge over   
the Sumida River and a group of men got out, hauling between them a   
short haired girl in a Furinkan school uniform and her feet in a block   
of cement.   
The splash of the girl falling over the side of the bridge was lost   
in Ranma's laughter over something Shampoo said as the trio went their   
merry way. The men returned to their black car and drove away without   
the three martial artists ever glancing their way or being aware of   
their presence.   
Later, early the next morning, a wet and bedraggled girl in a   
soaking and torn school uniform sloshed her way into the Tendo   
residence, catching Kasumi just as she got up to prepare breakfast. The   
elder daughter looked with shock at the newly arrived person and the   
small pig she was carrying, and covered her nose as she noticed a   
*painful* aura of river muck stench surrounding the pair of them.   
"Morning Kasumi. Did you know that P-chan knows the Breaking   
Point?"   
Kasumi shook her head, still looking startled and standing by a   
just-opened window. "No, I didn't. How did you find out?"   
Akane sat on a kitchen chair, looking sodden and filthy, a pool of   
dirty water forming puddles on the kitchen floor beneath her. "He came   
swimming down to me and I saw him use it to break the concrete off my   
ankles. Then he dragged me to the bank and we spent most of the night   
finding our way home together."   
Kasumi blinked rapidly. "Akane, what were you doing swimming with   
concrete on your ankles? Were you trying to learn some technique?   
That's something I'd sooner expect from Ranma. Don't you think a   
floating device would be safer until you learn to swim?"   
Akane's head drooped. "Forget it, Kasumi."   
Soun and Genma somehow, miraculously appeared in the kitchen beside   
her, both were rubbing their chins. Genma spoke first. "Hmm, sounds   
like the Oceanborn technique. Don't you think Tendo?"   
Akane's father nodded. "Indeed, Saotome." Rivers of tears began to   
track down his cheeks and he clenched a fist. "Oh, Akane, how proud you   
make your father by finally taking the Art more seriously! We will see   
that your devotion does not arise in vain!"   
Soun and Genma picked Akane up from opposite sides, swiftly chained   
huge lead weights to her ankles, and ran off carrying her between them   
to the nearest train toward the sea. P-chan frantically ran the wrong   
way when he got turned about trying to follow them.   
Kasumi took out the mop and calmly began cleaning. 

"You see, Ranma? Language is composed of two parts: words and rules   
on how to use them." Ukyo sat cross-legged with an English book open   
before her. Her spatula lay nearby, ready for instant use.   
"Err, yah. I get it. I think." He was suspended by his toes from a   
tree limb, hanging like a bat with his arms crossed on his chest.   
Ukyo looked at him doubtfully.   
"Shampoo no think Ranma get it at all."   
"There!" Ukyo excitedly pointed at the Amazon. "That's exactly what   
I mean!"   
"Hmm?" Came from both Ranma and the Chinese girl.   
"She had all of the *words* she needed to get her meaning across."   
Ukyo related. "But because she didn't link them together in ways more   
powerful they didn't have as much ability to convince us!"   
Shampoo looked at Ranma and he at her. They both blinked. 

Akane came home naked, only a few labels of an expensive brand of   
tuna to hide her private parts. "Morning Kasumi. If you're opening any   
tuna and find some of my clothes would you tell me? I'm going to   
sleep."   
The fathers had appeared on the veranda and were frowning   
disgustedly.   
"She didn't learn the technique, Tendo."   
"Hmm, I'm *sure* she would've, if only that fishing trawler hadn't   
come by and fouled her practice with those nets. What do you think   
Saotome?"   
"No help for it, Tendo. We must try again. Next time we'll use   
heavier weights."   
Kasumi had entered the room and blinked innocently at both fathers.   
"Do you really think that Akane is trying to expand her martial arts   
techniques?" She asked as she lay out tea for the pair of men.   
Soun nodded most gravely. "Yes. My only fear is I might be too soft   
on her. I can hardly bear to think of hurting my little girl, but if   
Akane is to be the wife of Ranma, it's time she took the Art as   
seriously as *he* does. This may be our only chance, Saotome."   
Genma gave his accent. "Yes, Tendo. If we neglect her training she   
may get injured worse than even the strictest training regimen might do   
to her. It is one of the rules I raised Ranma by."   
"Indeed." Soun nodded.   
Kasumi left, gravely concerned for her youngest sister.   
Akane was snoring in her room. 

Tatewaki was in the Kuno household kitchen, searching for a snack,   
opened up a can of tuna and his face came alight as he delicately   
removed from the can a pair of Akane's panties. "Ah, truly the love   
borne by the beauteous Akane toward myself can go unsatisfied no longer   
if she is going to such great lengths to tell me of it!" 

"Hold! You hussies! What are you doing to my Ranma-darling!"   
Shampoo assumed a battle stance, eager for the light exercise.   
"Hang on just a second, sugar." Ukyo restrained the girl, then   
hauled Ranma a short distance to where they could speak briefly under   
the tree. "Here, let me show you what I mean."   
"Huh? What ya gunna do?" Ranma responded, blinking. This was fairly   
standard for him. What was Ukyo wanting to do about it? Fight Kodachi   
herself? She did that often enough, all she had to do was beat Shampoo   
to the punch.   
Ukyo hissed at him. "I want to teach you that words can *change*   
things, Jackass! You know how this is going to end, right? Kodachi   
attacks, you or I or Shampoo beat her senseless, and tomorrow or the   
next day it repeats."   
"Yah."   
"Is very simple." Shampoo had joined them and Kodachi was looking   
on, puzzled by this brief conference, unsure what to do as yet with the   
alteration in schedule.   
"So if we're trying to show Ranma-honey what the right words can be   
used for, let's *show* him! He'll never believe us unless we can prove   
they'll make his life different!"   
Shampoo thought about it, then nodded. "Okay, is good plan."   
The huddle broke and Ukyo stepped to the front to address Kodachi,   
who was still waiting for the fully expected fight to break out.   
Ukyo bowed, demurely yet somewhat shallowly. "Miss Kuno, we are   
attempting to teach Ranma manners and culture that he not offend women   
of high standard."   
Ranma blinked. It was true... or so they said. And nothing sounded   
*wrong* about it, but Kodachi's reaction was anything but what he'd   
predicted.   
Shampoo smugly grinned. HER high standards were that he fight,   
everything else could come later. But the reaction of the Kuno girl was   
interesting.   
Kodachi was stunned. They obviously meant *her* of course. She was   
the highest bred of all Ranma's suitors, and so naturally had the   
highest standards. Had these two at last finally admitted defeat to her   
superior claim? But no, it was obvious they hadn't. They were still   
thick on him like bees on honeycomb. What else could this be but an   
overture, though? Could they be attempting to make peace? But they knew   
she wanted Ranma Darling first and foremost to herself...   
Kodachi stood frozen, having come to the only possible conclusion.   
They were out to curry favor with her, seeing that she was the only one   
who could possibly win this fight to secure Ranma for herself. Very   
perceptive of them, she must say. Kodachi knew she had every advantage,   
being the most beautiful, persistent, and of course wealthy of all   
Ranma's would-be brides. Her breeding and manners were impeccable, who   
could win *but* she?   
And it was just as obvious that the only prize they could be   
currying for from her was the coveted position of second place -   
mistresses to serve Ranma's manly needs when Kodachi herself was thick   
with child or otherwise indisposed. It was traditional for men of her   
station to have such, and Ranma of course would be elevated to that   
same lofty height so he could marry her as equals. Very interesting   
that these girls should be so thoughtful and perceptive. She'd thought   
less of them.   
Obviously, she'd been somewhat mistaken.   
Kodachi spent a moment considering. While neither girl was half as   
attractive as her, of course, they had a certain low appeal. The fact   
they were willing to accede to her higher claim spoke well of their   
intellect, and their ability to acknowledge superiority was certainly a   
useful trait. They might serve very well as mistresses and servants.   
This changed things.   
The gymnast decided, stunning the others by stepping down off her   
wall without the expected leaps or flips, merely taking the expedient   
route to the ground. Now sure of her superiority there was no longer a   
need for haste. She walked to the trio, looking them over carefully,   
before she snapped open a fan and declared.   
"Very well, Ranma. You may have them. But I expect you to serve   
propriety in the manner in which you keep them and of course not forget   
my higher place."   
She turned to Ukyo, now demure that this was an up-and-coming   
member of her household and therefore under her regal care, and pressed   
upon her a bank card, then did the same to Shampoo, saying. "These will   
serve to access accounts where funds will be made available to you, out   
of the Kuno family coffers. You may use them however you wish, but I   
must emphasize that your own clothing and decorum will reflect on   
Ranma's taste and honor among his peers. You must act accordingly."   
To Ranma she turned, pressing only a hand against him, rather than   
full a torso flesh massage as she used to. There was no need now, as   
she'd already won. "My darling, be a good student."   
And with that she walked away, demure and regal.   
Ranma watched her go and facefaulted the second she was out of   
sight. Shampoo and Ukyo did the same to lessor extents. 

Akane awoke and, having questions on her mind, went to ask her   
sister.   
Nabiki looked up from her work, staring coldly. "Who are you and   
what are you doing in my room?" She stared hard. "What are you doing in   
this house for that matter? Are you a friend of Kasumi's?"   
Nabiki touched her hair. Why was she feeling so refreshed?   
Akane backed off and gulped, drooping slightly as she noticed   
Nabiki's freshly wet and washed coiffeur. "Yah, I'm a friend of   
Kasumi's." Akane groaned in defeat. She left, going downstairs to the   
kitchen.   
"Kasumi, I..."   
*THUNK!!!*   
Akane *stared* at the kitchen knife embedded in the doorframe and   
inch from her nose. Her short hair stood on end, still covered in dry   
and now crusted river muck mixed in with a fresh layer of dried kelp   
and bits of raw fish, with tuna labels still chafing under the day   
dress she'd pulled on.   
Kasumi resumed her stance after taking another long carving knife   
from the rack handy on the wall. She now held three in each hand,   
gleaming sharply. "Akane, I overheard our father talking with Mr.   
Saotome. I'm afraid your marriage may be at stake if you don't receive   
enough martial arts training."   
Akane *shrieked* as Kasumi began throwing knives at her, slicing up   
her clothes with near misses. Kasumi flung a trio of shiny steel blades   
with one motion, cutting enough cloth off her sister's dress to qualify   
it as indecent.   
"So now if you want to eat a meal here you must defeat me in   
battle!!" 

"That was... that was..." Ranma sat at the restaurant table, having   
repeated those two words for close to an hour, unable to finish the   
sentence.   
"...cool." He finally said, concluding.   
Shampoo reentered the restaurant, tucking a bottle of her special   
shampoo back in her blouse. "Extortionist Girl now taken care of. She   
no threat, unable to help sister regain Ranma. Maybe she learn now   
emotions *good* thing. Help one not lose memory."   
Ukyo eyed the bottle suspiciously. "Hey girl, you wouldn't happen   
to be thinking of pruning the fiancee tree even more, would ya?"   
"Hmm?" Shampoo smiled mysteriously, with just a hint of menace.   
Suddenly Ranma was between them, hands on both restraining them.   
"Hey, none o that! I got tired of my fiancees fightin! There's gotta be   
a better way, we can..."   
Everyone looked down to where his hands were.   
Ranma lit off into the distance, screaming.   
Both girls reverently touched their breasts where his hands had   
been, then took off after him, hearts in their eyes. 

Akane RAN out of the Tendo compound...   
...straight into Tatewaki Kuno's arms.   
Luckily, he passed out from a nosebleed at the state of her   
undress.   
Grabbing a handy garbage can, she tore holes in it for her arms and   
legs and wore it as she ran over to stay the night at a friend's house.   
Incidentally, giving Tsubasa the best look of his life as she wore   
*his* disguise on a trek across town.   
She found that out just as she was about to ring Sayuri's doorbell.   
While in the act of shrieking and chasing the crossdressing pervert   
across town, the youngest Tendo had the misfortune to interrupt a ramen   
delivery.   
Grope.   
Tsubasa ran the other way, still wearing the trash can disguise   
Akane had been using for modesty.   
"Shampoo! You *DO* love me! Let's go away to be alone together,   
Shampoo!"   
"Gack!!" Was all Akane could say before being tied up in chains.   


--------- 

(hilarious laughter, culminating in a pleased sigh) 

Ahhhh, you know. This is probably the most *relaxing* fic I've ever   
done. C'mon, go ahead and admit you've wanted to see/write this   
yourselves sometimes. But haven't for certain forces that shall remain   
nameless *cough*Klepp*cough* *hack*TrueNuts*hack*. 


	4. 4

Shampoo's Revenge 4   
by Skysaber   


"This is all that pervert's fault." Akane groused to herself as   
she'd finally found a room, offered to her by this nice man, and was   
gradually peeling off the layers of muck, dried kelp, chains, tuna   
labels and her ruined dress with the aim of getting thorns out of a   
certain tender part of her body.   
The door slid open.   
The nice man who'd offered a room to her stood there wearing an   
outfit not dissimilar to the abbreviated leather thong worn by Naga in   
Slayers. He snapped the leather whip in his hands to the accompanying   
tinkling of the bells which hung from his nipple rings. "Ah, my   
precious pet. You must not do your own unwrapping. That pleasure   
belongs to your master."   
"Mommy." Akane wept. 

"So that's when she was saved by this freak explosion. Luckily it   
knocked them both out and her grandfather came and carried her away."   
Yuka told Sayuri over the phone.   
"Wait." Sayuri told her back, making a connection. "Isn't her   
grandfather Happosai?"   
"Um, yah. But think of what that other pervert would've done."   
Yuka said.   
"There's a difference? I'm surprised the ancient lecher isn't there   
taking advantage of her right now." Sayuri's voice came over the phone.   
Yuka blushed. "Um. I think he would, but right now he's off getting   
the photographs developed and buying albums to put them in. Apparently   
he *really* enjoyed saving her."   
"I'll bet." Sayuri snorted.   
Yuka turned to where she could see her friend asleep on her bed.   
The Tendo girl all washed and prettied and... in the most provocative   
lingerie imaginable, wearing makeup from head to toe. "Yah, but think   
of the alternative! And he was happy to get the thorns out. That has to   
mean something."   
"No doubt." Sayuri's opinions were obvious on this, and negative.   
Yuka rolled her eyes, even though her friend couldn't see it.   
"Okay, so she's been groped a little. The alternative was worse than   
death!" 

Soun and Genma crept forward on their knees. "Master," Soun sobbed.   
"Please, tell us are the police going to be aware of this? Should we be   
packing for a long trip? Say, to Antarctica?"   
Happosai sat with a ridiculously pleased expression on his face,   
sitting with a block of ice tied to the top of his VERY red face and   
half melting as steam escaped the corners as he tried to avoid burning   
to death from his happy flush. Clasped in his hands were the claim   
tickets for forty seven rolls of film at the local one hour developer.   
His grin did nothing to fade. "No boys, there's no danger to you in   
this. Now go away. You're interrupting."   
Both fathers bowed and scraped and backed out, not rising from   
their knees.   
"Do you think we should be preparing for a paternity suit against   
the Master, Tendo?"   
"You know as well as I do that his kendo is all hands and no blade,   
Saotome. Still, I've not seen him like this since he stowed away on   
that cruise ship full of supermodels. Who do you think he got this   
time?"   
"No idea, Tendo. Maybe he found a beautiful girl with a sex drive   
as great as *his* is?"   
"Not possible, Saotome." 

"Achoo!" Kasumi rubbed her nose and wondered what had caused the   
sudden sneeze. She went back to sharpening the asparagus spears she'd   
made for her crossbow, humming happily.   
Meanwhile, the roof settled back on the house.   
It had been *quite* a sneeze. 

Hiroshi cried tears of joy and wept his gratitude that his mother   
had insisted that he get the school's permission to get a part time   
job. He was planning offerings at every shrine he could find soon.   
But right now he had to develop forty seven rolls of film that had   
been dropped off only just a few minutes before at the one hour   
developing shack in which he worked. Right off he keyed the machine for   
sixty copies from each roll. Then he'd copy the negatives.   
Daisuke would never forgive him if he blew this chance. 

Ranma cowered beneath a bridge, awaiting doom should either of his   
fiancees find him. He wasn't *trying* to get them mad, but felt sure   
after his last mistake putting his hands on their chests that his doom   
was shortly to come upon him.   
It was right there, in the center of that thought, that he paused a   
second. Only long enough to wonder where it came from and why it was so   
certain they would hate him, when there suddenly appeared two bouncy   
chefs under his bridge and glomped him from either side with lots of   
joy and affection.   
As he was accepting their love and support a tiny, file keeping   
neuron in the back of his brain took the 'be terrified of women'   
thought, labeled it 'irrelevant data' and sent it off to be shredded.   
Shampoo and Ukyo were already hauling him off to share ice cream. 

Nabiki smirked and picked up the phone. It was time she acted on   
the heavy thinking she'd been doing lately. Namely, Ranma, the supreme   
martial arts god of her generation, had less ties to her family than   
his income generating opportunities warranted. There were the potential   
movie contracts, the definite value of the tournament circuit and the   
not-to-be-overlooked street fights with their lucrative betting and   
prizes. All the boy needed was a manager who knew how to take advantage   
of opportunities.   
Like her.   
No, there was one hot dog with a generous amount of mustard and   
there was no reason not to relish it.   
She dialed the number from the phone book, thinking back on why   
both she and her sister had turned him down that first night he'd   
arrived. That was a stain on their honor they'd tried to repay by   
housing him and his father all this time. Worse, it left the other   
girls with a much stronger claim.   
The matter of Ukyo's engagement to Ranma had less to do with honor   
and more to do with law. They'd made a contract, in which Ranma as   
Ukyo's groom was the payment to Kuonji and the okanomiyaki yattai was   
payment to Genma. Genma took his reward, 'spent' it, then took off   
without any intention of fulfilling his part of the bargain. There's   
more than just honor to satisfy here. The fact that Kuonji hit on one   
of Genma's weak spots was irrelevant, since Genma, as the 'responsible,   
upstanding parent who only wants to do what is best for his son', was   
responsible for his son's welfare, and squandered it for food.   
The phone began to ring on the other end.   
Ukyo could be dealt with later. She was a tricky problem and tricky   
problems took time to unravel. But of course, there was some   
competition Nabiki felt she could be rid of fairly easily. The rest   
would soon be gone, leaving the Tendo claim as the only active, valid   
one. So its relative weakness wouldn't matter.   
The ringing came to an end and the phone on the other end was   
picked up. "Hello, Immigration? Nabiki asked, smiling. "I'd like to   
report some Chinese that entered this country illegally." 

Ryoga was sitting in a park, feeling miserable. This was nothing   
unusual, he did it all the time. What's more, he'd made it a part of   
his art form. This was a kid who went seriously into his depression   
with an aim toward perfecting the technique.   
Unfortunately, his head was down so he didn't see his arch rival   
Ranma, with Ukyo and Shampoo fluttering gladly around him like birds,   
walk by right behind him. Their own gaze was taken by each other and   
their line of sight blocked by a convenient bush.   
Ryoga sighed hopelessly, which caused a small girl who saw him   
start to cry, which caused the father whose leg she backed into to   
start, which caused a scoop of ice cream to fall from the cone he was   
busy buying from a vendor, which made a splat, which caused little   
drops of strawberry ice cream to spatter the dress of the young woman   
who'd been bending down to comfort the young girl, which made her drop   
her purse (from which she'd been taking a napkin), which spilled her   
keys, which made a jangling noise upon falling that caught the   
attention of one Azusa Shiratori who had been passing by, causing this   
young figure skating legend to rivet her attention on a balloon which   
that same ice cream vendor was also selling. Seeing it made her think   
it was cute, which caused her to want to acquire it, which made her   
skate in that direction, incidentally cutting off a boy named   
Gosunkugi, who had been returning home with a loaded bag from the local   
occult bookshop, which made a book fall open, which caused the ink to   
run when Azusa skated *back* over it, spilling soft drinks in her haste   
to gleefully escape the startled vendor, which in turn set up a chain   
reaction which would destroy the entire universe.   
Thankfully, it was averted by a simple mistake on Gosunkugi's part   
where he merely cast it wrong and turned it into a curse which would   
render Ryoga impotent and cause him to acquire an intolerable case of   
fleas. The miscast spell would also destroy the book in a small lab   
fire. So, on the whole, the disaster was much smaller than it might've   
been.   
Ryoga sighed again, startling another young girl who'd been   
watching the first set of parents trying to clean up and comfort the   
first girl, and started the cycle all over again. 

Ranma sat under a tree on a lovely park bench, with a girl to   
either side feeding him licks from their ice cream cones.   
Life was grand.   
"Tee Hee!" Azusa skated right across the trio's bench, trailing a   
pretty panda balloon on a string as she giggled.   
***BOOM!!***   
Azusa *stared* in shocked dismay at the remnants of her pretty   
balloon falling in bits around her in a colorful display. Ranma and the   
two girls with him were up and shivering. No one had seen it but Ranma,   
but to him it'd been clear the panda balloon had exploded *before*   
they'd heard the noise.   
Then a British guy wearing a safari outfit and sprouting a   
handlebar mustache came up out of nowhere, leaning up to inspect the   
shattered remnants of the balloon. With one hand the gentleman was   
rubbing his chin and in the other he held a high power rifle, leaned   
casually with its stock on the ground.   
"Hmm..." The Britisher finished his inspection, looking up in a   
paternal way at Azusa. "Terribly sorry to trouble you. I saw a panda   
and just *had* to take a shot at it. Bit of a knee-jerk reaction, one   
might say. Oh, how deucedly unsportsmanlike of me! I should have   
stalked it for days. Would have saved all this mess of startling a   
little girl like this."   
The brown-haired Englishman patted Azusa affectionately on the   
head. "There, there little girl. Don't trouble yourself. I'll have you   
a new balloon in moments." He vanished, then was back in the blink of   
an eye, casually handing the skater a pretty pink bear balloon. "There,   
you see? All's well that ends well, wot?"   
"Who... who are you??" Ranma stammered out, still terrified of the   
man's casual use and possession of a rifle.   
The Englishman hefted the weapon to port arms. "I am Sir Wilfred   
Hapsbey, late of Her Majesty's Armed Forces, Jungle Division. And by   
the way, you wouldn't happen to have seen a panda about, would you?"   
"What??" Stammered a still terrified Ranma.   
"A panda." The Britisher reiterated. "Big, bear looking like   
creature native to China, black and white markings, eats bamboo,   
relative of the koala. You haven't seen one about, have you?"   
"Why are you looking for it?" Ukyo asked, seeing Ranma was too   
terrified to speak.   
The Englishman twirled his moustache in delight. "Ah! So you've   
seen it." He took out a notebook, made mark of the date and place, then   
licked the tip of his pen and stood ready to transcribe the whole   
encounter. "Let's see, native confirms animal sighted in the area...   
Mention of beast tends to frighten local villagers..." He slapped the   
notebook closed, returning it to one of his many pockets.   
Then man swept off his hat and made a grand, but totally inadequate   
(a difference of opinion as to *which* was the superior and inferior   
culture here) bow to the Japanese four. "I have been invited here to   
clear up a spot of trouble concerning the beast. It seems that it is   
responsible for a small rash of crimes." He produced a small list,   
which unfolded, unrolling until its other end vanished into the brush.   
The mustache twirled as the Englishman read it once again, shaking his   
head. With a flick of the wrist the list was refolded and tucked primly   
back into one of many pockets. "Mostly petty crimes, food theft and   
what. But there's no small count of assaults witnessed. The British   
Ambassador was in the area and overheard a few of your constables   
talking about it and made the offer of my assistance."   
Sir Wilfred smoothed one end of his mustache. "You see, my family   
has been rather interested in big game hunting since early last   
century. I was brought up on it. You might say we've made something of   
an art out of that martial sport." The Englishman proclaimed proudly,   
puffing his chest somewhat. Then he glanced about. "But while we've   
bagged a trophy set unrivaled in all of London; bears, elephants,   
tigers and whatnot, there's still one thing been missing from our   
collection. They've been a protected species for the longest time and   
we were frankly about to give up on ever acquiring one when the   
Ambassador, who is an old friend of the family, made the call.   
Naturally we were only too *delighted* to respond! The matter's been   
set clear with your government and I'm here to rid you of one   
troublesome beast and put the head of a panda in a place of honor in my   
family's trophy hall. I say! Is that a sighting? Cheerio!"   
The Englishman was gone. 

Genma pranced down the street happily, holding a tank of piranha   
under one big, furry arm. Earlier that day he'd stolen a few dozen   
barracuda, some lampreys, and this big alligator named Mr. Green   
Turtle. Very soon now he'd be able to train Akane in the secret   
technique that ought to cure her of her irrational fear of swimming!   
He was so clever, thinking of it all by himself, too. Wouldn't Soun   
be surprised?   
No one could say what warned him. But at the very last second the   
panda ducked and the roadway behind him shattered under the force of a   
bullet from a big game hunting rifle.   
The panda stood staring in blank incomprehension at the shattered   
concrete, until some primal impulse clued in that he was in danger and   
he was scrambling inside of a local bath house before an Englishman   
could say "Drat it all!" 

"Dang it! Ucchan, I gotta save my pop!"   
"Why?"   
"Huh?" The question, so honestly and simply asked, stopped him, but   
only for a moment. "Because he's my pop, that's why!"   
"So what?" Ukyo blinked at him, shrugging and tossing her hair back   
out of her eyes. "I mean, look at what the guy's done to you. Think for   
a second. I mean, he treats you more like a worst enemy than a parent."   
"Well, yah, but..." Ranma's lunge to get away had stopped and he   
was rubbing at the back of his head.   
Ukyo shrugged deliciously again. "And the guy's practically my   
father-in-law and look what he did to *me!*   
"Uhm..." Ranma had hoped that he could ignore that question, but   
since she brought it up...   
Shampoo had been eying her husband with a very intelligent   
appraisal. "Airen? What problems you have can no be traced back to   
panda?" She asked innocently.   
Ranma stood like a poleaxed steer.   
He opened his mouth... closed it.   
Open... ~curse~ close...   
Open... ~fear of cats~ close...   
Open... closed.   
The teenaged martial artist stood with a very helpless expression   
and wide eyes. 

Happosai hopped gleefully along the road. What might be said more   
accurately was that he floated along, born up by his glee and shining   
eyes, clutching his claim tickets and a stolen watch in his hands.   
It was almost time. 

Ryoga wandered around, feeling depressed, a box of souvenirs   
clutched to his heartbroken chest. He'd finally found the Tendo home,   
after only days of searching! But to turn his good luck into ash Ranma   
had somehow bought off Nabiki and now Akane's older sisters were both   
in league against him!   
Nabiki had lied with a straight face that she *had* no younger   
sister!   
When he'd found a way in and confronted Kasumi, that girl had been   
practicing with a naginata - slicing onions at a dozen paces!! The   
weapon didn't even reach that far! She said something about having been   
taught by Kuno-san before she'd graduated and left the kendo club to   
take care of her family. But what broke his heart was that she asked   
him is he could teach her a few moves to attack Akane with when she   
arrived back home.   
Finding himself lost on a street, his only reference point some   
photo shack, Ryoga leaned back and let his aura explode in a blazing   
inferno of depression.   
"RANMA! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!"   
The area around him exploded. 

Happosai stared with tear-filled eyes as the one hour developing   
booth exploded right before he could reach it, burning chemicals and   
bits of paper thrown about, shredded by the blast.   
In less than a second the ancient martial arts master was in,   
trying to save what he could - but there was nothing. So he hauled out   
some boy who had a glazed expression, staring in utter dismay at his   
empty hands, and put him down outside the blast.   
Then the lecher began looking for culprits.   
"RA....." he said, expecting the obvious. Then he caught a boy   
inhaling to shout out that same syllable.   
"YOU!!!" Happosai cried, seeing the Lost Boy smashing apart a   
postal bin, ablaze with depression which matched the all-important   
shop-devouring blast. The old freak cried as he began trembling with   
rage. "How *dare* you spoil an old man's happiness?"   
Ryoga looked at him, then away again, uninterested. Happosai was   
Ranma's fault and problem, like everything else. "Go away, pervert. I'm   
not interested in anything a lazy and useless old man like you has to   
say."   
Happosai went ablaze with a house-sized aura of anger.   
"DIE!!!!!"   


--------- 

(pleased sigh, then laughter) 

Hmm, what say ye? Does it look like bad luck is haunting those who   
usually generate it for Ranma? 

That may be. 

Ah, me. I LOVE this fic! 


	5. 5

Shampoo's Revenge 5   
by Skysaber   


**KABOOM!!!**   
Happo-Fire-Bombs exploded in a hail of bright orange overlapping   
concussions.   
"Happo Flaming Balls Revenge!!" Cried a mad voice from inside the   
cloud of blasts.   
Shrieking in a voice two octaves too high, Ryoga came racing out of   
the explosions with a blazing, white phosphorous fire centered on his   
groin and panic in his eyes as he ran hither to and fro seeking   
*anything* that would end the blaze of pain.   
He spied a convenient vat of liquid.   
*Splash!*   
Behind this scene, a calm and murderously angry Happosai appeared   
from the dying explosions of the hail of Happo Fire Bombs used to blind   
his foe to the *real* attack. He breathed heavily for long moments.   
"Now, boy, you see one of the real reasons I sealed the founding   
technique of this branch of my martial art. I didn't want to remember   
the rest of the stuff I'd made up based on it!!"   
A small black pig with its groin on fire splashed out of the vat of   
barbecue sauce like an odd fish seeking freedom. Beside this scene, a   
man wearing apron and chef's hat looked up from his grill. Dozens of   
similarly attired men did likewise, and the banner above their heads   
floating gently in the explosion-stirred breeze read.   
"Martial Arts Barbecue Cook Off Today!!" 

Nabiki opened the door to an older gentleman about her father's   
age. Nothing about his attire set him apart, but there was the obvious   
air of a government inspector about him. The man bowed very shallowly.   
"Miss Tendo?"   
"Yes." She replied, with a much deeper bow of her own.   
The stern-faced inspector carried the burdens of his office with   
ease. "I represent the Immigration Bureau as a special investigator. I   
am here to take your testimony as witness to open a file so we may   
begin an investigation into these foreigners. May I come in?"   
"Of course." She stepped aside and allowed the older man to enter   
their home. He got right to business, opening a briefcase and removing   
a clipboard.   
"Full name?"   
"Nabiki Tendo."   
The man seemed to pause, but twitched it off almost unnoticeably.   
"Age?"   
"Seventeen."   
The man jotted it down, then looked at Nabiki instead of reading   
his form. "Do you attend Furinkan High School?"   
Nabiki was somewhat nonplused by his manner, but answered as   
friendly as she could. "Yes, ever since middle school."   
"Are you the *only* Nabiki Tendo who attends Furinkan?"   
Warning bell alarms were going off in her head, but he could easily   
find out on his own and she couldn't remember offending anyone...   
lately. The girl gave a cautious nod. "I am."   
Nabiki had a sudden 'Mouse in a Cat Convention' feeling as the man   
contrived to look both vindictive and relieved. She noted him whisper   
"At last." as he snapped his form into his open briefcase with a flick   
of his wrist, taking out a different sheet and copying the same   
information into the blanks. She answered his questions warily as he   
finished out the new paper, but wasn't sure what she'd gotten into or   
how to get out of it.   
"Don't you need my signature or something?" She asked as he'd done   
and was about to put away the form.   
The man responded with such an evil grin that she was certain now   
why people cringed away from her when she was feeling a rush at the end   
of a scheme. "No, that won't be necessary. Thank you, miss Tendo. Good   
day."   
Nabiki showed him to the door and tried to forget her hearing him   
whisper "May it be your last." 

"I had it, Daisuke. I had it *in my hands!*" He sobbed openly. "The   
greatest result a Knight the True Perversion, looking in the girl's   
locker room and buying pics from Nabiki, all for a remote *glimpse* of   
Akane could *ever* hope for. All gone..." Hiroshi shook his head,   
trembling in sorrow.   
Daisuke patted him comfortingly on the back.   
"It's okay, my friend. The Defenders of the Nude Fiancee will   
always be with you."   
Hiroshi raised his tear-streaked face. "Do you think?"   
Daisuke nodded *very* seriously, raising a hand to indicate the   
horizon. "Think of it, member of our companion order, for you have seen   
that which we have only *wished* to for so long...."   
Both boys became RIVETED as a screaming image of pale pink flesh   
flashed past. 

Akane had been *trying* to get home in one piece.   
It wasn't working.   
First, Happosai had used some waterproof makeup when he'd adorned   
her and the stuff _wouldn't_ come off! Then Yuka and she were different   
sizes, which made borrowing her underwear impossible and only Yuka's   
elastic exercise shorts would fit. Barely. And the t-shirt had almost   
split a seam when Akane had put it on.   
She'd been in such a hurry to get home and change into something   
decent that she'd not noticed until she was blocks away from Yuka's   
house that the lingerie she'd forgotten to take off peaked out beyond   
the borders of the too-tight exercise outfit.   
Then Happosai had found her.   
"SWEETO!"   
*burst!*   
The shreds of the overstrained t-shirt gave way and fluttered to   
the ground behind her as the Tendo heir to Anything Goes martial arts   
was assaulted by the ancient master of her school. She ran screaming,   
with the pervert still fondling her breasts, which the sexy lingerie   
did nothing to conceal or restrain.   
Thought gave way to panic as she ran....   
...straight into Kuno.   
Tatewaki Kuno stood in regal pose all the way up until he saw the   
old lecher perched between his true love's breasts like a wrinkled old   
baby.   
Then he got a little crazy.   
"Unhand her, cretin!!" Kuno took a slash with his wooden sword.   
Happosai moved out of the way. Akane's shorts did not.   
*RIP!*   
"AAAaaaaahhhhh!!" Akane ran streaking off down the street.   
"SWEETO!!"   
"My love!!" 

*BONK!*   
Shampoo lifted up a hand and massaged her head, finding a wooden   
crate landed there, flung by some far-distant explosion. The label had   
been burned off by chemical fire, but the crate was sturdy enough. It   
looked like one of the boxes that shipping men brought to their   
restaurant sometimes.   
Glancing to make sure Ukyo wasn't rushing off with Ranma, She   
lifted the box down off her head to check through the contents, and   
when she did her eyes bulged.   
She stowed it away.   
There had to be a use for it sometime. Maybe it would work to use   
her sister's trick and say to Akane to back off from her airen or else.   
She wondered if anyone else had thought of that idea. 

Sasuke, acting on Kodachi's orders, eased shut the window to   
Nabiki's room while the aforementioned occupant was downstairs dealing   
with some government official, taking with him an armful of notes and   
papers, which he added to the cart full of computer disks, file folders   
and microfilm he'd filched from all the special corners of the Tendo   
domicile, hidden about in Nabiki's various stashes. He'd opened and   
emptied out her safe deposit boxes earlier that day, and he'd gotten to   
the around-town stuff the previous evening.   
Very simply, he was a spy. He might not do other stuff well but he   
*hid* very well indeed, and was an excellent hidden watcher. A hidden   
watcher learns all sorts of things of sensitive nature, and he'd been   
posted on the Tendos MORE than long enough to know where Nabiki hid   
everything she did.   
Kodachi had ordered those confidential files confiscated.   
Sasuke was so busy struggling with the load that when the errant   
breeze deposited a number of photo-shack picture envelopes upon the   
stack of already confiscated materials he didn't even notice, save to   
straighten one that looked like it may well fall off.   
Then he trudged back to the vaults of the Kuno mansion. He had to   
sort and index all this and present his mistress with a summary   
sometime tomorrow. 

There was a fair going on at the park that day, and the friendly   
trio of Ranma and two competing would-be wives were having a *grand*   
old time. There were pretty stuffed animals to be won (and sold to   
little kids who were unable to win one for themselves), big bags of   
popcorn, cotton candy, and other treats. A shooting gallery had a 'Dunk   
the Panda' game that was surprisingly popular with the locals, even   
though one British guy was winning all the points. Of course, there   
were also rides...   
After a ride through the Tunnel of Love, Ranma walked a little   
funny and had a face that was covered in solid lipstick - different   
colors each side.   
They laughed and stopped at a barbecue shack to get a cloth napkin   
to clean him up with, and while they were there Ukyo bought a small   
roast on a stick. She bit into it while the love of her life laughed at   
one of her jokes, and suddenly the roast exploded in struggling and   
squeals, shaking off barbecue sauce to reveal that it had mysteriously   
survived the burning of its flesh over the fire and impalement on a   
stick, and was now struggling for freedom - running off with squeals   
muffled by the wooden rod in its mouth, emerging from the other end as   
well. As it ran it reclaimed its trademark yellow bandana fluttering   
down from the garbage heap and ran off in search of hot water and burn   
salve.   
Yes, said pig was none other than the damage-resistant Ryoga.   
Ukyo turned to the vendor and asked for her money back. 

Akane ran screaming.   
She'd torn off the lingerie - or rather Happosai had, which was   
*not* an improvement. The terrified girl had stolen a sheet from a   
small table stand, just barely enough to wrap around her loins and   
tucked up so her passenger wouldn't be able to climb inside as easily.   
Happosai was, for his part, having the grope of his lifetime. He'd   
not had so much fun since the last time he'd disguised himself as a bar   
of soap in a women's resort bath.   
One arm over her chest, the other trying futilely to dislodge the   
ancient master of her avowed school from getting in places where he   
shouldn't be, trying at the same time to outrun Kuno and the   
ever-growing crowd of perverted boys who were following her, Akane   
burst into a crowded fair and saw before her the source of ALL her   
woes!   
"RA...   
Punt!!!   
Ukyo and Shampoo had beatific looks on their faces as Ranma lowered   
his foot. Finally, he was defending *them* from outside interruptions!   
Then they paused and glared sparks at each other across his chest. he   
saw this and looked disapproving, and both girls were instantly   
contrite and well-behaved, smiling back at him as they moved off to   
their next attraction of the day.   
In the background, Akane, wearing only a brief scrap of cloth that   
looked somewhat like a diaper, crashed through the roof of another   
local martial arts competition.   
Happosai, having been finally knocked off as his patient, err,   
victim received her dose of Atomic Stratosphere Kick, fell lightly to   
the ground on the balls of his feet and saw the burned and abused Lost   
Boy stuck in an alleyway next to an empty kettle of water, trying   
rather gingerly to remove the wooden spike from his posterior.   
Still not having felt he'd gained sufficient revenge, Happosai   
landed on the Lost Boy's head and branded a mark into Ryoga's back   
using a hot coal in the end of his pipe.   
"WHY YOU!!???" Ryoga screamed in a high-pitched tinny voice, only   
to find his hands full of a camera.   
Happosai calmly smoked his pipe. "You'll replace my photo   
collection with pictures of Akane undressed or you'll squeal even   
higher still, piggy."   
Ryoga raised the camera high above his head to smash it against the   
ground in rage.   
"AND I'll tell Akane all about her pet pig." Happosai calmly   
completed, smoking in stoic dignity, not concerned at all.   
Ryoga had frozen into a man-sized icicle, with blue frost covering   
his flesh. Penguins played on and about him. 

Tatewaki Kuno came to a stop in the fair park, wondering where his   
beloved had gone. Then, realizing that he was missing his favorite TV   
show, decided to end the race and seek out his true loves later.   
Today's episode of Skysaber had him entering a new season, where he   
was supposed to drive the evil from the Evangelion universe! Surely   
such a quest was worthy for the eyes of so powerful a samurai! Besides,   
everyone was wondering how the most revered superspy would *do* it!   
Checking the time he realized there would be no way to make his home   
before the opening credits and came to the next most expedient   
location.   
Azusa Shiratori came to the same conclusion and sped home as well. 

Nabiki came downstairs, looking morose and even unwell. "Kasumi,"   
she addressed her older sister without looking up. "We may be in   
trouble. My files are all gone."   
Kasumi looked up from her laundry. "You mean those..."   
"Yes, *THOSE*!" Nabiki corrected, putting what she felt was the   
proper emphasis upon this. This was a catastrophe of the highest order,   
in her mind.   
Kasumi stood worried for a moment.   
"I'll go talk with mother about it."   
Nabiki thought of the shrine in their dojo and had to admire her   
sister's simple faith, but this was a moment for practicality. It was   
an emergency. "Kasumi, she's dead. She can't hear you."   
Kasumi stopped, honestly shocked. "Dead?"   
Whatever she was about to say was cut off as Nabiki strongly   
interrupted. "You know, our father is always talking about 'his dear,   
departed wife', or 'your departed mother'. How long does it take to   
sink in that mom's not able to help us anymore?"   
Kasumi shook her head. "Nabiki, mother isn't dead, she's just   
departed. She lives three blocks down and one street over." The eldest   
sister cocked her head at the younger. "You mean you honestly didn't   
know all these years?" The homemaker put a finger to her lips in   
confusion. "I guess that would explain why you never go visit her."   
"Wha..." Nabiki's jaw was exploring Antarctica and she began having   
the mother of all bad hair days.   
Kasumi put a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder, speaking   
wisely to instruct her. "Nabiki, you know our father is a very kind   
man, but he's also an overemotional lunatic. Our mother couldn't take   
his excesses or grandfather Happosai's advances anymore so she moved   
out. You even helped with her packing. Of course father went off the   
deep end and I guess you were still very little and got confused when   
he held a funeral and made that silly shrine during one of his   
episodes. But didn't her visits do anything to help?"   
"Bu....." The middle Tendo's shoulders had slumped so far it was a   
wonder her shirt didn't slide off to pool on the floor.   
"Of course she'd stopped wearing kimonos, and her perfume was   
different, and she was wearing a wig and glasses so that father   
wouldn't recognize her and get loopy all over again. But I honestly   
thought you knew."   
"But..." Nabiki's eyes rolled crazily in different directions.   
"I mean we had practically every one of our birthdays at her house,   
and she was the one who gave us all our 'becoming a woman' talks, and   
she's helped with our homework in elementary and middle school, and   
gave you your first yoga classes..."   
Kasumi stopped speaking when Nabiki collapsed to a heap on the   
floor. 

It came time to serve the dinner rush, so both chefs bid Ranma a   
fond farewell and went their separate ways to go do what they did for a   
living - cook some of the best food in Japan.   
As Ukyo and Shampoo left him, alone in the park with a mile-wide   
grin on his face, Ranma began wondering why he'd ever thought his life   
was hard. 

Kasumi closed the door behind them, having woken her sister with a   
bucket of cold water (well, she *had* said this was an emergency), and   
now the two were both walking in concert down the road to a certain   
house. Kasumi was explaining along the way.   
"Mother had a bad year about the time I was entering High School,   
so she had to go teach at an all-boys middle school to make up the   
difference. Two of her students that year were Ukyo and Tsubasa."   
"*Ukyo* knows our mother!??"   
"Yah, that's right. I do." Said chef appeared, having overheard the   
two sisters talking. She crossed her arms behind her back. "That's odd.   
What's with the shocked look? I'm sure she told you, right?"   
"Nabiki didn't know our mother was alive, Ukyo."   
"No way! She lives only a few blocks from your house. I've seen you   
pass by there visiting." Ukyo cocked her head aside at the oddity of   
Nabiki telling such an obvious lie, and trying to imagine what the   
point of it could be.   
Kasumi shook her head, seeing how Nabiki was too shocked to   
respond. "No, now that I think of it, she doesn't go there to see   
mother. She only goes by that way to school and to see her friends. I   
always thought it was odd..."   
"That's weird, alright." Ukyo agreed. "You mean you and I spend two   
afternoons out of every three days with your mother and Nabiki didn't   
even know she lives? I thought she was better informed than that."   
"So did I." Kasumi nodded.   
Nabiki was anchored to the spot, unable to move, barely able to   
speak. "You mean to say all this has been going on for years and this   
is the first I heard of it??!"   
Her elder sister shook her head, disagreeing. "Nabiki, you know how   
many times I've asked you to go see mother."   
"I KNOW!" The frazzled girl replied, screaming the word in   
distress. "But I always thought you meant to go light incense at the   
shrine or something! I even did that a few times - not that I could   
ever tell that it did any good!"   
"Well of course not, sugar. How could it? She isn't dead." Ukyo   
interjected.   
"AND HOW DO YOU KNOW HER!!?" Nabiki's calm facade had shattered, as   
she turned on the chef.   
Ukyo backed up a step, raising her arm. "Sheesh, you don't have to   
get so jumpy. I met her in middle school. I heard Kasumi tell you that.   
She was the one who wrote to tell me that Ranchan had moved to this   
neighborhood. Why did you think I came here? You think I was trying to   
run into him by accident? How do you think I could've sent challenge   
letters if I didn't already know they were here?"   
Nabiki's jaw grew slack, lacking answers to that question.   
"Even Ranma sees her practically every school day. I know, I've   
heard you mention it." Kasumi kindly instructed, wonder how her sibling   
could've been so ignorant.   
"Mention it?" The younger daughter croaked.   
"Yah." Ukyo casually rocked on her heels, studying her. "She   
splashes him with holy water every day, trying to exercise the demons   
that are haunting him and making his life so hard. I know. I've helped   
her buy a few buckets. She gets it from a shrine in Juuban."   
Nabiki was shaking her head, trying to reclaim reality. "No! That's   
not possible! That is a shriveled up old woman! There's no way our real   
mother can be that old!!!"   
Kasumi covered her own face with a hand to help keep inside the   
laugh that wanted to squeeze out. "Nabiki, I don't know how to say   
this. You don't even remember playing dress up with mother when you   
were young? I have pictures of you, five years old and looking for all   
the world like a fifty year old hippy, a teenage boy, and some of your   
favorite muppets. She's always been a master of disguise. How do you   
think father could lose her so completely when she still lived so   
near?"   
"Yah." Ukyo agreed wholeheartedly. "And who do you think Tsubasa   
learned *his* techniques from? That's stuffs too advanced for him to   
have invented the school. You ought to know those kind of achievements   
only come through training refined by generations. Of course, he's a   
moron, so she stopped teaching him partway through the basics. He did   
all the things she taught him stupidly, so that's the reason she gave   
for dumping him. But she confided to me later it was mostly 'cause he   
was using it to become such a blotch on my life."   
"Mother always did look on you as another daughter, Ukyo." Kasumi   
kindly added with a bright and friendly smile.   
"Yeah, well." Said chef blushed and got embarrassed, looking away.   
For the second time that day Nabiki rolled up her eyes and fainted. 

From a house not far from Furinkan High School the yard gate opened   
and let forth two figures, a boy and a much older woman, approximately   
the age of the boy's mother.   
"Thank you for coming, Tatewaki. I hope you enjoyed the television   
show, and you know you are always welcome. Keep practicing, I know if   
you keep trying your calligraphy will improve to the point where that   
girl will certainly go out with you."   
Tatewaki Kuno bowed his head at the exact amount of respect   
deserved here. "I appreciate your words of comfort, sensei. I will be   
diligent in my studies."   
Kimiko smiled at the young man. "I know. I just can't imagine your   
grace and dignity haven't already impressed her. Perhaps she is the one   
unworthy of *you.*"   
Tatewaki looked aside regretfully. "Alas, my fierce tigress knows   
no other who might tame her. I remain bound. If only I was like   
Skysaber, who always knows the answer."   
Kimiko increased the intensity of her smile. "Dear student, if a   
girl goes from avoiding you day in and out to throwing herself naked on   
you and sneaking panties into your kitchen, I'm afraid she's not likely   
to be a good wife. She sounds too emotionally uncontrolled."   
Tatewaki bowed his head again. "I shall consider what you say.   
Farewell, till our next lesson, sensei."   
"Farewell." Kimiko closed the compound gate on his departing back   
and leaned against it, sighing heavily. "Such a dear, well-mannered   
boy." She got up, shaking her head. "But I know well how important   
stability is. I can't, in good conscience, not warn him off a girl who   
seems so out of control."   
She started off to her walled garden. "At least he could tell me   
what her name is. I could go to her mother and give her a good talking   
to."   
Azusa poked her head out of her upstairs room. "Is he gone,   
mother?"   
Kimiko pulled a smile out of nowhere to shine on her wonderful   
daughter. "Yes, dear. You can come down now, we're having supper in   
just a few minutes. You'll want to freshen up. Though I *still* don't   
see what is wrong with that boy. You could make a very cute couple   
together, if you were interested."   
Azusa Shiratori slid down the bannister and flipped to a halt.   
"He's not very good at gymnastics, and he doesn't skate."   
Kimiko laid a hand on her remaining daughter's arm. "Dear, I've   
taught you everything I know about skating but one thing, when you   
begin to have children it gets alot harder. Some day when you're   
married you'll realize there's things more important."   
Azusa shrugged, setting approximately five pounds of curls   
bouncing. "All the more important! That means if little-Azusa doesn't   
get a skating husband, our children will *never* learn what fun it is!" 

The door rolled open in the Tendo compound. Soun looked up,   
wondering only if it were his friend, and where dinner was.   
Instead, Yuka entered, escorting a displeased and dilapidated Akane   
who was wearing only a diaper and a baby blanket. Alongside them both   
was a little kid, a boy of about age five - or three, who looked like a   
total troublemaker.   
"Well now, what's this?" Soun asked, breathing out smoke from his   
cigarette that Kasumi would go into fits about if she didn't have   
zen-like self control.   
Akane growled something *extremely* unkind.   
"Potty Mouth! Potty Mouth!!"   
Yuka shrugged, glaring at the kid who'd just shouted down Akane's   
latest retort to this extremely outrageous turn of events. "Apparently   
Akane fell in the middle of this competition and began throwing a fit.   
As I understand it, by doing so she accidentally won a Martial Art of   
Childishness tournament and so has to be this kid's bride."   
Where did her friend get into all these messes?   
Soun's cigarette fell out of his mouth.   


Author's Notes:   
Ah, me! hehehehehe!! Oh, the glory! The GOODNESS of it all! Being   
able to turn back again all the stuff that happens to the good guys in   
other stories, and have it hit the guilty parties for once. There can   
be nothing so sweet as justice well-deserved!   
  



	6. 6

Shampoo's Revenge 6   
by Skysaber   


Akane glared angrily at Soun, who stared sheepishly at the floor,   
avoiding her gaze.   
Between them the living room had burned down, started by Soun's   
cigarette and spreading as he'd spilled sake and tried mopping the   
precious (to him) fluid up, snatching away his daughter's baby blanket   
- the only covering for her upper portions besides her arms, and then   
being startled and trying to slap the fire out with said blanket, only   
to find that he was swinging about a blazing, sake-filled, rag torch.   
If he hadn't started crying they'd never have put the fire out   
before it consumed the house.   
"Me wanna go wee wee."   
"Oh, shut up."   
Yuka glared at her friend, finished dousing the sparks in her   
dress. "Anyway, looks like the crisis is over. You can handle it from   
here. Don't forget to return my stuff that you borrowed. I'll need it   
at gym tomorrow."   
Akane giggled inanely and sweatdropped madly.   
Yuka saw the look, and frowned. "Never mind. I can see you   
destroyed them again. Honestly, Akane, don't you care about anyone   
else's things?"   
Akane was about to start bawling.   
Yuka turned and went out toward the door, saying as she left.   
"Don't bother asking for any more help until you've replaced my   
exercise outfit. I'm angry at you now."   
Big, wet tears hung from either corner of Akane's eyes.   
"I'm hungry." The child declared.   
"Oh, your..." Soun's face went pale as he considered the only   
daughter on hand who he might press into cooking.   
Akane rounded and pounded off into the kitchen. "That's right! I   
learned this new recipe today. It was playing on the clock radio when I   
woke up. I missed the first couple of minutes, but I'll just improvise   
the rest with my own little creative ideas! I know, I'll use raisins.   
Dad likes raisins!"   
Thinking horrid thoughts about what small, dark and wrinkly things   
Akane might find - and subsequently ***SO*** glad they didn't have a   
pet (and hence litter box), Soun hid his ash-darkened face in his hands   
and moaned.   
The little kid started to pee in the corner. 

Ryoga was caught in a dilemma.   
For once he was wishing it was Ranma, he was up against.   
It was very simple. Ranma cared about honor. If you got his word,   
he kept it. That made it very simple to get the better of him. One   
thing Ryoga had learned even before his short association with Genma,   
was that honor was a tool, a weapon, something to be used against your   
foes and not to be allowed to be used against you in turn.   
In short, expect (even demand) it from others - and have none   
yourself.   
It was a principle he'd lived his life by.   
Ryoga felt it perfectly acceptable for *him* to attack foes in the   
dark, in their sleep, or from behind. While he was always raving about   
honor to keep _Ranma_ tied down he was freely breaking his word,   
sleeping with another man's fiancee with his full knowledge, against   
his wishes and rubbing said man's nose it while he fondled said girl's   
breasts (even if it was only with his snout), and keeping his own word   
of honor only when it was convenient or he stood too great a risk of   
being caught by those he maintained an image for (so they would always   
presume he was right).   
Ryoga was, in short, an honorless bastard.   
Pity Happosai was too.   
That cut him out of the easy way out, which was to raise a question   
of the other person's honor, then, while they were dealing with that,   
conveniently forget about his own obligations - then blame his   
forgetfulness on another if challenged about it.   
It all worked so wonderfully with Ranma that he'd come to rely on   
it more than ever.   
But...   
Ryoga stared at the camera in his hands.   
Resolve firming, he set off with spring in his step and an evil   
grin on his face. He could always sell the photographs at school to get   
Ranma into a trap. For that matter, he could keep a few copies of the   
pictures himself, or even the negatives. There were lots of places that   
he traveled where they wouldn't take Japanese yen. A few trade goods   
were always helpful.   
Finding his umbrella, he tried to lift it and suddenly wondered why   
he was unable to even budge the thing. 

"So Nabiki, this is mother's home."   
From the way Kasumi just casually opened the gate and strolled   
right in, brushing right on in through the door to be taking off her   
street shoes and slipping on a pair of indoor slippers in her favorite   
colors in a spot with her name on it, Nabiki had to assume this was   
true. But when she reached into a slot with her own name on it she   
found the slippers were of a size to fit a nine year old.   
"Sorry about that." Kasumi apologized. "I stopped buying you new   
ones because you never came here to use them. We'll get you a new set   
this weekend. In the meantime you can use one of the guest pairs."   
Feeling a little ashamed, and not even certain why, Nabiki did so,   
and followed her elder sister into a front room positively *bursting*   
with award cases. They entered just as another figure was on his way   
out.   
Kasumi greeted Mikado with a kiss. "Hello, Mickey. Having fun?"   
Mikado Sanzennin fluffed his hair and glamour sparkles flew out in   
a dazzling display of perfect technique. "Sure, Sweet Pea. Coming to   
the Barn today?"   
"Not today, thanks." Kasumi replied sweetly. "I have too many   
things to do."   
Mikado skated off with a wave. "Later, pet."   
Nabiki was goggling. "Do you always greet him with a kiss?" She   
tried to ask this sarcastically, but it came out too strained to be   
effective.   
"Oh, you have to." Her big sister automatically replied. "He   
insists. After the shock of the first few times wears off you discover   
he's really quite a good kisser."   
"The Barn?" Nabiki hauled the words out of her throat with   
difficulty, imagining some deeply disturbing scene that would shatter   
her image of Kasumi forever.   
"Mm Hmm." Kasumi nodded agreeably. "It's our favorite skating rink.   
We go there to practice alot. They let us pros in free during midday   
closing hours."   
"WE?!? PROS!!?!?" Nabiki squeaked. Her fears had been right.   
Kasumi turned to puzzle at her sister. "Nabiki, where have you   
*been*? You know all about my being on the Furinkan High School Figure   
Skating Team."   
"I know you were *on* it, but I wasn't really paying attention."   
Life had always been like that. Kasumi was background material, meant   
to be looked at only if damaged. In other words, something to be mainly   
ignored as you went on with life. She'd been busy setting up her   
network back then, anyway. She'd had alot on her mind making the   
betting pools her own as her network hadn't made the transition from   
middle school intact, so Nabiki'd had to replace key members - and, of   
course, displace the former betting, bribery & blackmail ring at   
Furinkan. That had been her busiest year, as she'd gained control.   
Since then things had been easy as she'd just had to maintain all those   
things fought for so hard during her first oh so difficult year, and   
the difference in their ages meant that was their only high school year   
together. Paying attention to Kasumi had been *last* on her priority   
list. And by the time the betting pool was coming under her control her   
sister's matches had all been out of town anyway, so she didn't even   
bother to research the odds. She'd trained flunkies to handle that.   
During middle school she'd had middle school events to focus on. It   
was what her peers had cared about, therefore what they'd bet on.   
The elder sister rolled her eyes, feeling unappreciated. "BEAKIE!!"   
She used that horrid, childhood nickname - taken from a favored muppet   
back when Nabiki was too young and girlish to think cynically. "What   
PLANET do you live on??! I won the National High School Figure Skating   
Championship three years running! Just like I won the Middle School and   
Junior Leagues before then! Honestly, how *else* do you think I got so   
early into the Olympics?"   
She pointed to a trophy case on the wall, one festooned with   
ribbons, plaques, and awards of every kind. In it, centered between   
drapes of blue cloth isolating it from the cups and gold award statues   
to either side of it, was hung a gold medal...   
Two...   
Three gold medals.   
Nabiki's hair frizzed out wildly. Three times gold medalist figure   
skater? Her sister was winning Olympic gold medals at the tender age of   
*SEVEN!*?? Pictures of their mom standing with Kasumi as she accepted   
each one of the three, smiling, happy and bright, each time a little   
older, caught the eye.   
Nabiki reeled.   
Then some of the *other* award cases on the wall leapt out at her,   
featuring sporting events that were *not* skating. Nabiki's eyes swept   
to the right of the skating medals to the next case full of gymnastics   
prizes, to the left and caught a fencing trophy out of many put on   
display there (Greater Tokyo Intramural Championships - 2nd Place) in   
the next case, to the Naginata-ryuu (martial arts using the "Japanese   
halberd") trophy in another nearby - 1st Place to the Martial Arts   
Cooking Competition's Golden Wok trophy caught her eye out of another   
display.   
With an almost audible creak, Nabiki now looked to the left and the   
next wall...   
The "Honorary Devil-Hunter Apprentice" plaque. The MVP award from   
the 1988 Girl's Soccer High School League. A plaque that indicated   
Kasumi had qualified at the shooting range at Misawa Air Force Base.   
The ribbon from Tokyo Comicsmart indicating her doujinshi "Love's Fiery   
Destiny" had won first place in the Romance/Shoujo division.   
The room around her spun, filled with trophy and award cases.   
Looking around herself to follow her sister's gaze, Kasumi   
pleasantly added. "Azusa keeps her medals in *her* room, because she   
likes to see them when she gets up in the mornings. She's won some very   
nice silvers to go with my golds."   
Nabiki fainted. 

"I WANNA CANDY!!"   
"SHUT UUUUP!!" Akane shouted, vein bulging out on her forehead.   
Ever since their home's kitchen had had that mysterious fire when she   
was cooking their meal she'd been out trying to shop for her double   
fudge, malted whiskey, ozone and peaches, with salami and chives sauce   
ingredients so she could continue with her preparations for the Belgian   
waffles and sushi dish she was *sure* would knock her father's socks   
off!   
It would even fit according to Nabiki's plan for getting Ranma   
back!   
The kid she was engaged to began wailing out on the street they   
were walking down, throwing a massive fit while pulling at Akane's   
clothes. His pudgy hands were all over with melted sweets that she'd   
already bought to keep him quiet this far, and the smears that appeared   
on the last dress she had left broke what remained of Akane's patience.   
"THAT'S IT!!!"   
Out came mallet-sama, and she proceeded to vent her rage, using the   
kid as a punching bag every bit as severely as she did with Ranma when   
the magic mushrooms had shrunk him this small.   
The crowds at the pedestrian mall were shocked.   
Two sets of doors slammed shut, and two vehicles sped away. One was   
an ambulance, taking the kid to the hospital (where the bill would be   
sent to the Tendos) and the other was a police van, heading off to jail   
their prisoner.   
Akane stared glumly and in shock out from between the van's bars. 

Nabiki came swirling confusedly back to wakefulness, lying on a   
comfy bed like Soun could only afford if he pawned the rest of his   
house for it. She looked around and saw lovely lace curtains, pink and   
white in profusion, and handy little ornamental toiletry items like a   
silver swan brush hanging on a dainty peg next to a gilt and rose   
framed mirror. She also saw her sister's face, hanging over her.   
"Welcome to my room." Kasumi smiled.   
"I thought you *had* a room?" Nabiki sat up, holding her head.   
Unspoken was the subtext, 'with us.'   
Kasumi shrugged. "Father was pawning everything he could find when   
he stopped working after mother left him. I lost two of my precious   
joys - gifts mother had given me at various events, before I moved the   
rest of my special things here. Mother got the others back from the   
pawnbroker for me, but I wasn't going to risk my special things near   
father again. He's done too much damage to that house already."   
"Oh."   
What could you really say to something like that?   
Kasumi pounced on this as a moment of weakness for filling up with   
the useful activity of resolving one of her own, nagging concerns. How   
much *had* her sister missed out from her life? She pressed forward.   
"Beakie, what do you know of the Valedictorian address my senior year?   
Did you even know who gave it?"   
"Uh, no. Nothing. You don't take bets on it." Her younger sib   
sheepishly admitted.   
Kasumi glared at her sister with a flat face. "Nabiki, you are a   
shallow thug."   
"How come you've never shown this side of you at the house?" The   
younger girl desperately defended, trying hard not to admit to her   
sister that she was probably right.   
"Well, I'm always so tired when I get home. Besides, after I got   
injured in third grade the doctors zonked me out on painkillers. As I   
discovered later, when mom left, it was easier to put on the same act   
whenever daddy was around rather than deal with him. But seriously, you   
didn't know that?"   
Nabiki tried *hard* to picture when she might've seen Kasumi when   
their daddy wasn't around and came up blank - she'd *always* avoided   
her sister at school, because all her teachers had had Kasumi before   
her and expected her to be the same sweet and nice little angel, an   
image that would've killed her rep and ruined her ability to run   
betting pools.   
She stood staring blankly.   
"Are you alright?" Kasumi asked with renewed concern.   
"I'm just waking up and realizing that I missed the better part of   
my life." Her younger sister mumbled.   
Kasumi was back to smiling, pulling Nabiki off her bed by her hand.   
"C'mon, mother is downstairs, and I'm sure she'd like to talk with you   
again." 

KNOCK! KNOCK!   
Soun mildly finished showing the man from the nice mortgage company   
out the door with thanks for helping him make his daughter's bail, then   
answered the looks from the two stuffy and official looking men   
standing on his front step.   
He trembled. "Err, can I help you gentlemen?"   
He was shown a badge. "Soun Tendo? We're from the immigration   
department. It has come to our attention through one of our agents that   
there's been a mistake. Will you sign these forms, please? And these   
other officers would like to search your house."   
They presented him with a raft of paper as a stream of grim faced,   
armed men went past him into the building.   
"Err, what's this?" He lifted up the top one to look at it.   
"You are acknowledging that you will do whatever is necessary to   
help apprehend the convicted criminal and escaped convict Akane Tendo,   
who has just escaped prison this afternoon mere minutes after her   
arrival. Oh, you will also be wanting this."   
The man handed him what looked a bit like a checkbook, to Soun who   
hadn't seen one of those in ages. Crying tears, he asked as the men   
began to demolish his house searching behind him. "And what is this?"   
"Your internal passport. You will be required to carry it at all   
times. Your daughter Nabiki Tendo came to our attention when she tried   
to turn in the diplomatic-immune party of representatives from a   
friendly, independent Chinese community. Once she popped up on our   
scopes we did a little looking in to her background and discovered that   
your family is not Japanese. You are, in fact, Korean immigrants, and   
must abide by the laws associated with them. Send your daughters around   
so they can be fingerprinted and photographed, in the next three days.   
Otherwise we will be forced to take action."   
Soun was blubbering incoherently as they took the signed forms and,   
with a final crash, left the house and went away. The chief inspector   
smiled to himself as their long cars departed. ~At last, Nabiki Tendo,   
I have my revenge for what you did to my poor daughter in her year at   
Furinkan!~ 

Akane, wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, sobbed as Genma lifted   
her out over the tank. [No blubbering girl!] the panda's sign read.   
[This is for your own good!] With a shriek she was dropped into the   
tank full of sharks, eels, barracuda, and other dangerous water life.   
[In you go! Next time don't try hiding in concrete buildings to avoid   
your training!] Flip. [Or I'll break down the walls of that one, too!]   
Her burbling scream bubbled up in reply.   
Genma sat munching on a stolen bowl of rice while the girl thrashed   
with an alligator with the name Mr. Green Turtle. The panda wiped sweat   
from his brow as her leg got bitten and she had to let go of the   
monster's mouth in order to fend off an attack of piranha on her face   
while leeches squirmed into her jumpsuit. The barracuda almost seemed   
to be waiting in line behind the sharks and squid.   
POW!!   
Sir Wilfred came up, checking the spoor of panda blood left behind   
by the fleeing creature. There came a deucedly uncomfortable moment   
when he had to decide between chasing the now-wounded (and dangerous)   
creature, or saving this rather peculiar drowning victim.   
With a sigh, bearing the responsibility of nobility, the Englishman   
paused just long enough to phone in for a rescue team, then dashed off   
after the panda, the girl in the pond struggling with tentacles around   
her neck, thrashing in the water behind him. 

Their reunion had been a touching scene, if a surreal one to   
Nabiki.   
Kimiko was brushing tears from the corners of her eyes and saying,   
"Of course I had to change my last name, but the Shiratori family was   
kind enough to take me in and give me a place on their registers. Of   
course, the silly way the school zones are worked my home falls in the   
district of Kolholtz High School, and not Furinkan, but that's never   
caused any problems I know of."   
Nabiki rushed headlong. "Why don't you come back to dad?"   
Kimiko blushed. "Oh, but Nabiki, Soun is not your father."   
"WHAT??!" Sudden, porcupine hairstyle on the stunned daughter.   
A mysterious figure wearing Darth Vader armor came into the living   
room, holding out a gloved hand toward Nabiki. "*I* am your father."   
"ACK!!"   
Blushing Kimiko sipped delicately at her tea. "The doctors can't   
measure sperm counts as low as Soun's. He's had his member all twisted   
and mangled from his training with Happosai, so it wasn't any use   
anyway. So I had to seek alternate methods to have you."   
THUD!!   
That was the sound of Nabiki hitting the ground.   
Doctor Tofu took off his helmet and adjusted his glasses, coming   
over to Nabiki's side to examine her. "Well, there appears to be no   
injuries." He turned back to look at his wife. "Honestly, Kimmi-chan,   
you'd told her before, right?"   
Kimiko shook her head, still blushing. "I never had a chance to.   
She never gave me one. And now it's all hitting her at once."   
The good Dr. Tofu stood up, looking at his wife. "But I don't   
understand. All those years... they were coming to my clinic, and   
Kasumi was *always* 'borrowing books' from me. Don't tell me *Nabiki*   
of all people was fooled by that silly gag. I thought that ruse would   
fall through the first time we used it to excuse her coming over to our   
place all the time."   
Kasumi was sorrowfully shaking her head. "But she never did want to   
return those books for me. I never could understand why, til now."   
Kimiko was looking down sorrowfully at her restored daughter. "It   
would seem Nabiki found the illusion more comfortable than the reality   
that she really always was the least accomplished of our children. Such   
a shame. If she'd only gotten over this sooner... She could be so much   
more like her sisters now."   
She beamed at Kasumi.   
Dr. Tofu smiled in a strange way, looking down at his second   
daughter. "So all those times I was trading family code words with her   
and not understanding her responses were because she had no idea what   
the codes meant?"   
"It would appear so."   
Dr. Ono Tofu Shiratori (who ran a clinic by his middle name, before   
he retired) stood with a strange smirk on his face, then laughed,   
replacing his helmet. "Oh well, anyway, it will all sort out, I'm sure.   
I'm off to the con!"   
"Goodbye dear! Have fun!" She turned away, pleased with how well   
her husband did in his chosen profession. Honestly! Doctors have to get   
up at all hours of the night and deal with *constant* interruptions. He   
was so much happier now as owner of one of the largest film studios in   
Japan. She couldn't describe how grateful she was when he gave up   
practicing medicine to take over his family business. Now she could   
spend the quality time with him that meant he wouldn't go all loopy   
when he saw something that reminded him of her!   
A smiling Kasumi took her mother's arm and leaned into her   
shoulder. "Mother, I'm so glad the young man who donated sperm for you   
to have children was still unmarried when you decided to dump that   
other."   
Kimiko smiled down at her eldest. "Kasumi, will you at least listen   
to me this once? For *years* I've been telling you not to go back to   
Soun. Now that Nabiki is back with us can't you stay here from now on?"   
It deserved a moment of thought. "Oh, alright."   
"Do you need to get your things?"   
"No, from the smell of the smoke, Akane was cooking tonight. I had   
nothing really important outside the kitchen, and that won't be   
salvaged easily, if at all. I'll just use the ones we have here   
instead."   
Kimiko gave her daughter a hug. "That's my girl."   
Azusa popped down the stairs. "Mom! Kasumi! Come quick! Look at the   
news!"   


*****   
Author's Notes: 

Ah, me. Do you realize there was a time once when I would've felt   
ashamed to write something like this? There's severe limits to the   
profundity of ill feelings I can store within, but then, if I need a   
recharge, I just set back and watch what Akane does to the other   
characters in the manga, anime, and especially fanfiction... and she   
deserves to get it all back! 


	7. 7

Shampoo's Revenge 7   
by Skysaber   


Genma cowered.   
Not even the Master had inspired such dread in him. His pursuer had   
scarcely been there two days and yet already knew all about his   
favorite hiding spots, accustomed trails, and haunts. It was getting so   
he was afraid *not* to leave the house (seeing as how a rifle bullet   
had nearly split his skull lying on his tatami mat), but everywhere   
else he went the big game lunatic was always just barely a step behind   
him.   
Or in this case beside him.   
The Englishman sipped a tea quietly on the barstool just beside   
Genma, watching the door and muttering. "Everything I know of this   
beast tells me he'll be in here. Why don't I see him?"   
Genma was just about to screw his courage together and beat the man   
senseless with a surprise attack when he saw, out of the corner of his   
eye, a local Yakuza enforcer finish eying the Englishman's large gun.   
The bald, overweight martial artist slank back a trifle in his seat, so   
as to be inconspicuously out of the way as the local crime family took   
care of his own worst nightmare - and if they left something, why, he'd   
be right here to assure himself that the man would not recover.   
A coward cornered is a dangerous thing.   
Still watching the door intently, Sir Wilfred was completed   
oblivious to the approach of the large Yakuza thug, until the latter   
had found an isolated spot in the bar completely out of the   
Englishman's range of vision, and pulled out a small, silenced pistol.   
*BANG!*   
The Yakuza thug slid bonelessly to the ground, very dead, as the   
red hole between his eyes could attest. Sir Wilfred calmly replaced his   
own, British service pistol and calmly produced a license which he   
showed to the bartender without removing his gaze from the door.   
"Diplomatic immunity, old chap. And would you get that body removed? I   
don't want the smell of blood to alert our panda."   
"P... p... Panda!?" The bartender stuttered.   
Instantly, the Britisher's sharp eyes had seized upon the barkeep.   
His mustache twirled alarmingly. "You wouldn't happen to know anything   
about it, would you old chap?"   
The barkeep glanced several times between the two customers seated   
right next to each other, then decided that his own skin was worth far   
more to him than one customer, no matter how regular, and he indicated   
Genma. "You'll be wanting to talk to him, sir. Now if you'll excuse   
me." He went and got the body removed. 

...and somewhere in Shinjuku a boy opened a can of tuna from his   
grocery bag and to his shock found some girls clothes. Frantically, he   
opened the other ten cans. All were filled with girl's clothes.   
The boy hung his head. No girl. Too bad. 

The wind stirred the cloak of a man poised, with a chef's hat on   
his head, an apron around his waist, and butcher knives at his belt, as   
he lurked awaiting his prey.   
He was Kim Chi, Master of Martial Arts Swine Cookery.   
He had also been betrayed.   
For the first time in his long, distinguished career, he'd had to   
give a refund. It was appalling! Without precedent! The honor and glory   
of his school was now at stake! The only flaw in an otherwise *perfect*   
lifetime of service to the ever-grateful public now in ruins! All   
because of a single, flawed roast.   
There was only one thing he could do.   
As the martial arts restaurant chef peered around the rim of the   
wall separating him from the alley, he spied the awful, evil porker who   
had somehow survived his baking and by doing so ruined the master   
chef's career! Hands twisted more tightly about the handle of the net   
which he held, watching the evil piglet heat a pot of water. The pack,   
the abandoned clothes, the umbrella... all of these got ignored as   
unimportant.   
It was time for the pig to die and redeem the master chef's   
reputation. 

Little Azusa sat perched daintily, one leg curled up where she   
could hug it, on a soft cushion (very cute) in front of a cute TV set   
in the middle of her cute room as her mother and older sister came   
gracefully in to join her.   
On the TV was an announcement of a new Martial Arts Figure Skating   
challenge. The small family watched it in silence. The whole family   
took these kind of events seriously. The Shiratori name was dear to   
them, and under their care it had risen higher and higher. It had to.   
Otherwise, Azusa's grandparents were threatening to spoil her!   
They couldn't have that happen. 

Things were quiet in the Cat Cafe.   
That was mostly because Mousse was distracted with a blow-up,   
inflatable Shampoo doll. Cologne every once in a while pulled a cord on   
its back, causing it to say "Aiyah! So happy!"   
Sooner or later he'd figure it out. But, since he'd always been   
mistaking light posts for his beloved *anyway,* this was considered   
amply sufficient to take the boy out of the girl's purple hair for a   
time while she went about catching her husband.   
Considering how blind he was (in more than one sense of that word)   
he was liable to stay distracted until he tried something kinky -   
neither Amazon had felt right about letting him think he was doing THAT   
with Shampoo.   
So that was when the doll was rigged to explode. Napalm was one of   
the wonders of ancient, Chinese Amazon secrets, after all. 

Following the news spot (and having copied down the time and place   
of the future challenge - with adjustments to their training schedules   
already planned), they'd seen a short five-second alert that panty   
thieves were on the loose in Nerima again (along with a phone number to   
call with any information) and headed back downstairs.   
"Honestly, I never cared much for Soun's old master." Big   
understatement. Kimiko could feel when the old pervert was within a   
block of her and actively sought him out, a horde of angry women at her   
back every chance she got. Stupid little troll, she'd get him for   
peeping on her in the shower!   
They came down to see a groggy Nabiki being helped to her feet by   
Dr. Tofu. The girl was quickly rallying, trying to defend her   
recently-shattered version of reality.   
"Look, there's No Way I'm going to believe any of this about daddy   
until someone here shows me some proof." Nabiki insisted, firmly   
buttressed behind crossed arms.   
Dr. Tofu, who had returned (having forgotten his car keys, Darth   
Vader armor doesn't come with many pockets), adjusted his glasses while   
he looked at her. "Okay, Beakie," he noted use of that nickname made   
her wince. "What color is my hair?"   
"Brown." She answered, and lifted an eyebrow as if to say 'so   
what?'   
"What color is Soun's hair?" He continued, unperturbed.   
"Black."   
Dr. Tofu Shiratori's eyes twinkled at her. "And your mother's hair   
is...?"   
"Brown." Nabiki was getting a tad upset about this.   
Ono leaned forward, gazing with serious humor into her eyes. "Do   
you need simple genetics explained to you? Black hair is a *dominant*   
characteristic. That means that three out of four children ought to   
have it if one parent does." He laughed and smiled at her. "So what   
color is your hair?"   
"Brown." Nabiki was now feeling some unease over this.   
"And Kasumi's?"   
"Brown. But Akane's is black! That's not too far off the   
statistical average!" She was almost desperately shouting. A cloud   
passed over the adult faces, but she tried hard not to notice that.   
Tofu opened the door to his indoor office. "C'mon, I've got all   
your records in here. Let me show you a little something about blood   
types. We can redo the tests together if you think I might've gotten it   
wrong."   
Kimiko nodded cheerfully. "And I've got all the legal information   
once you're done with that."   
Kasumi headed to the kitchen. "I'll help prepare supper!"   
Her youngest sister bounced along, skating swiftly in behind her.   
"Little Azusa will help, too!" 

Completely unaware of the frame-up by the local chief immigrations   
inspector and all the files & evidence he'd altered to throw the Tendo   
clan into doubt forever, fabricating the story of their new, checkered   
and sordid, past in order to get revenge on Nabiki for the hurt she had   
done his daughter; the real shame of the clan, Akane, appeared on the   
streets of Nerima wearing only a ragged hospital gown, bandages, and a   
broken half a pair of police handcuffs, an IV tube still sticking out   
of her arm. Those PERVERTS at the hospital were going to... down there!   
There was NO WAY they were putting tubes and... then... that other   
stuff, to her!   
A few bandages and it ought to be fine.   
Sighing, she headed off for home, trudging miserably through the   
gathering gloom of evening. It was all Ranma's fault. With that thought   
to guide her, she found her path home using the red glow of her rage to   
light the way. 

The peace of the Kuno compound was broken by a suddenly appearing   
ninja.   
"Mistress Kodachi, I have the report that you asked I prepare!"   
"Ah, Sasuke."Kodachi looked up from her watering. "Very well, the   
high points only, please. I have not much yet to do before I must visit   
next weeks opponents this evening. To show them proper respect for St.   
Hebereke's team. OHOHOHOHO!!!"   
Sasuke cowered, fumbling with the papers in his hands, all   
carefully written to avoid evoking her anger. So much for that. "Well,   
mistress Kodachi, it appears that the noble lord Ranma is bound to this   
Nabiki's clan in ways that may prove unbreakable."   
"WHAT!!?" An angry-faced Kuno demanded, gymnastics and plants   
forgotten. 

Nodoka swished as she walked along the road, feeling happy and   
sated, and at peace with her life.   
Well, all except for one, little thing.   
There was a secret that gnawed at her from time to time, a   
sacrifice made to ensure her present and continued happiness. It was   
something done long ago, but what it boiled down to was...   
She missed her firstborn.   
In spite of all the joy she now had, she knew there was a price   
being paid for it, and wished to make amends to the son she had lost   
ten years ago, whose hardships made her own life so joyful.   
It all began with a secret.   
Not a very well kept secret, but a secret all the same.   
Genma was NOT Ranma's father - the same kind of circumstance   
leading to Soun's inability to father children also effectively gelded   
his training partner Genma (whose only apparent appetite was for food).   
Nodoka had found herself forced to make 'arrangements'. The   
necessity of doing so gave her 1) the real cause for getting Genma out   
of her hair so many years as she'd gotten uncomfortable explaining to   
the idiot her odd weight gain and loss cycles, and 2) the reason for   
sending them off with the instruction to return with a 'manly' son, so   
that jerk didn't repeat on her child the idiot mistakes that had made a   
eunuch out of *him!*   
She was always planning to introduce her firstborn to all of his   
brothers and sisters when the time was right, and of course that   
required he come *home* first, which was most of the reason she kept   
the old, Saotome place.   
The Saotome house was virtually empty virtually all the time   
because, really, she didn't live there. She preferred to stay and live   
in the mansion with her lover and the majority of her children, and   
she'd love to take Ranma there the first moment when she could arrange   
to be sure the news wouldn't immediately go to Genma's ears.   
She's on good terms with the man's wife and *excellent* friends   
with the legitimate heir of her 'helper' family, who viewed her as a   
second mother and taken much of her beliefs to heart. Which was why   
Ranma's real family name, once he got accepted (and Nodoka had no doubt   
of that), was Sanzennin.   
She was sure he would get along with his half-brother from the   
start. They were so alike! Both powerful martial artists, good with the   
ladies, and of course extremely handsome too. She could hardly wait to   
introduce Ranma to Mikado!   
Genma was convenient for a name under which Nodoka could bear   
children without the nose wrinkling that often accompanies mistresses,   
even accomplished, long-term ones. The relationship between her and the   
family was so high they even adopted most of her children - all but   
Ranma, to date.   
Perhaps she ought to ask Kimiko how she could fake her son's death   
so she could take him away to be raised among the rest of his siblings?   
All the rest of her own plus the four half-brothers and sisters he had   
of his real father's wife?   
Hiccuping her way out of those thoughts, Nodoka put a hand to her   
belly, feeling the strange yet wonderful sensations within, and   
immediately diverted her course to the nearest drug store.   
Another one? So soon? She had to get a pregnancy test to find out.   
Good gracious that man was virile!! 

Meanwhile, not far away. 

"Damn you, Ranma!!" Ryoga appeared, wearing a flea collar and using   
one hand (the one he wasn't presently making a fist with) to scratch   
uncontrollably.   
Ranma stared at his foe, puzzled. "Okay, so what's with the matter   
this time?"   
"Because of you, I've seen Hell!!" The Lost Boy charged, swinging   
his fist until it met the brick wall just as Ranma'd jumped over it.   
There came a definite *Crack!* But looking at the wall it seemed   
unaltered. Ryoga, however, let off a definite whimper as he dropped the   
pose and held his hand, screaming, as he danced around in place.   
There came a second *CRACK!!* But this time it was Shampoo clocking   
the Lost Boy with a bonbori over the head, driving him out cold to the   
ground. She looked at him, frowning, for two heartbeats before whipping   
out a body massage oil and soon Ryoga's clothes were flying as she   
stripped him, lathered him up with the ointment, then tossed him back   
into the pile of his clothes with total disinterest.   
"Ranma!" She glomped him. "Happy to see Shampoo, yes?"   
"Er, yah. So what'd you do to pig-boy, there?" Ranma pointed.   
The Chinese Amazon looked on her beloved with loving eyes. "Is   
ancient Chinese secret. That why Great Grandmother no scared let   
outsider learn amazon technique. Lotion technique can make body forget:   
loosens muscles, softens bones and make skin not so so tough. Next time   
he use Breaking Point he lose finger. Only he no use. Memory go bye   
bye."   
The cuddly Amazon smoothed her curves into her beloved, leaning her   
head on him to say quietly. "He no ally to tribe. No useful for make   
husband need help of wife or Great Grandmother anymore. So he no get to   
keep technique."   
Ranma went stiff and aborted the kiss Shampoo was trying to reach,   
holding her away while he asked a question. "Uh, do ya mean that I...   
that chestnut thing..."   
Suddenly his arms were full of smooth and warm girl-flesh. he   
dropped her in surprise and she used that opportunity to go back to   
cuddling contact, reaching again for that kiss. "Husband no have to   
worry. Husband have full rights so long as have Amazon wife."   
"Oh..." he said, about the time his voice got cut off by a   
passionate smooch. 

Kasumi worried in the kitchen.   
She'd learned from Nabiki (who thought *she* was the brains of the   
family - what a laugh!), that Akane planned to re-win her engagement to   
Ranma by awakening his memory of her by being cute and using his   
emotions.   
It was a plan that might work, but there was one crucial thing   
wrong with it. Akane had to be intelligent and nice, unlike her actual   
delusional, jumping to the worst (and furthest from the truth)   
conclusions, bitchy, psychopathic-dyke self. Akane was a touch below   
psychotic in her self-absorbtion. She could literally think of nothing   
but herself and her self-gratification.   
Which, admittedly, made her a mess as a potential wife, for   
anybody.   
Already, Kasumi had thought of this far in advance of either of her   
siblings. Akane had been so cruel to Ranma while they were engaged that   
she didn't think he *had* any emotions in him for the girl. When they   
fought, which was often, he kept his feelings out of it, dodging only   
as was needed, never losing his temper.   
If he HAD lost control, then Akane would have been hospitalized. If   
she survived it.   
Ranma was among the best of his generation. Akane was a lackluster   
hobbyist who had never yet won a fight unassisted (fighting perverts   
who could never bring themselves to hurt her counted as them assisting   
her) and was willing to give the whole thing up, laxing her skills down   
to nothing, because Ranma had protected her so well that she didn't   
think she needed them(1).   
For no other reason that made them a bad match.   
Giving up your only claim to a decent skill (and not a very good   
claim at that) just because someone else made it seem unnecessary was   
proof positive in Kasumi's mind that Ranma was a bad match for Akane. A   
true spouse should encourage you to greater and greater heights,   
wanting to make the best out of your talents, not give you an excuse to   
drop the only one you had.   
But Ranma hadn't made her do it. Akane made that choice out of   
sheer laziness. If Akane was willing to use his skill as an excuse to   
drop hers, then she needed someone who would not give her that excuse   
to hide behind. She needed someone who knew no martial arts at all, if   
hiding behind another was a course of action she was willing to take.   
No, Ranma felt nothing, certainly not respect, for the girl that   
way.   
And as for being cute, she did that so rarely, and always punished   
him the moment he displayed any respect or consideration for her, that   
Kasumi had doubts about that as well. Their fathers may have plunged   
the two together, so they could not help but feel the closeness of   
association with each other, but the instant he started to even   
acknowledge that feelings existed she'd pound him for it.   
You don't need to do that often to kill a small, growing thing.   
If any feelings *had* arisen, then both of them would have been   
married at once, so they actually fought hard NOT to feel that way for   
each other. Which meant, now that Akane's future hopes depended on   
those feelings... there may not BE anything there to revive.   
Ranma insulted her by reflex because that was how he was trained.   
He might even possibly be trying to goad her to doing her best. That's   
almost certainly what Genma did to the boy. How was he to know how to   
do any better?   
Akane lost her temper in those fights. But Ranma didn't.   
Any soft and tender feelings he felt Akane punished whenever he   
raised. Any other emotion was kept in check by Ranma very nobly   
refusing to hate her. There was nothing good and nothing bad he felt   
between them, only perhaps a bit of inertia because of their enforced   
closeness and being of an age where those feelings came naturally and   
with quite some force.   
But Ranma had an outlet for those feelings now that wasn't crushing   
the life out of them the moment they showed any signs of existing. A   
bond had already formed between him and those other girls and it was   
already many levels stronger than her sister's bond to Ranma had ever   
been.   
Kasumi glanced at her sister Azusa. It was time other arrangements   
be made.   


*****   
(1) Here I reference the canon OAV "Akane And Her Sisters" where it is   
stated, in so many words, that Akane had given up on martial arts   
(except jogging to keep her figure), because having Ranma around to   
protect her made her not feel the need to practice anymore. 

And, sooooo many times the same tired story directions are used. Well,   
I simply don't like them. Let's blow some cliches out of the water!   
Nodoka sitting lonely at home? Not hardly. Not in this fic. Anything   
Nabiki does she can get away with? WRONG!! Akane cannot be touched by   
misfortune? Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!! 

Nothing good can happen to Ranma and his enemies all prosper at his   
expense while the other fiancees and background characters can only   
suffer? Somehow... I don't think that's what's going to happen in this   
fic. Do you? 


	8. 8

Shampoo's Revenge 8   
by Skysaber   
  


Kodachi was musing.   
Many people would look at Ranma's situation forgetting that he was   
Japanese. That sole mistake would be like designing a seagoing ship and   
forgetting to account for water. It was integral to every part of the   
process, result, and design.   
One may as well try to understand birds without accounting for air.   
To be Japanese means a weight of tradition and honor that was a   
heavy thing, most especially among traditional families. So heavy was   
honor that even today many preferred to commit ritual suicide rather   
than taint it.   
Of course, one could always stop caring about being Japanese. But   
to do that you'd have to leave the country, honor and almost certainly   
your family as well. Giving up all you knew was never an easy step for   
anyone, and less so for those who cared, in any degree, about that   
which they would have to leave behind. Basically, if you were among   
that crowd that would face death at your own hands rather than endure a   
taint of honor, you were not among those who'd sidestep the whole issue   
by abandoning your heritage.   
Ranma, as Kodachi knew well, cared deeply enough to die for honor.   
So that was why, as his future wife, she was reviewing the   
documents brought to her by Sasuke out of that Nabiki woman's research   
attempts. She had to know his problems if she were to help solve them.   
And if her family was to join his, she certainly would have to solve   
them. Sasuke's summary was hair-raising, but hardly a patch on the true   
tangle of promises made and broken.   
To the non-Japanese, Genma's promises bore no weight because he was   
a moron and also because he made no effort himself to keep them. It was   
plain that Genma himself viewed promises as disposable whenever they   
displeased him. But in spite of the fact that his father had no honor   
(an issue that would have to be dealt with and put away quietly), Ranma   
did. So long as Ranma did, they mattered. And, as her Ranma-sama was so   
dear to her own heart, they mattered to Kodachi too.   
Promises made that could be resolved by money would be resolved and   
put to rest. This was a given, a duty as well as her pleasure as   
Ranma's future wife. It was also fairly cheap. Despite staggering   
numbers of cheated shopkeepers, the small-mindedness of Genma made for   
petty thefts so inconsequential they were beyond belief. A little hush   
money and a few damages paid, nothing too onerous, and those dusty   
stains to Ranma's family honor would be quieted forever.   
Except she wouldn't, she couldn't. Not yet.   
Before any surgeon began operations to save a patient's life, he   
examined in detail the issues and made relevant plans. Plotting to   
restore a clan's fallen honor required the same consummate skill, if   
not more so. And you did not operate to correct a small detail if the   
patient's life was endangered from other sources.   
Simply put, Genma was an ongoing problem, and there was no way any   
amount or combination of influence, power or prestige could hide the   
man's flagrent acts of stupidity for long. Exposing him to money would   
be as bad as trying to put out a campfire by dousing the blaze with   
gasoline. It was an inescapable fact about the man that he had always,   
under every circumstance, made the worst possible desicions imaginable.   
There was no way any family associated with him would long survive with   
honor intact.   
The Kuno family's... eccentricacies were modest to the point of   
boredom when put in comparison with this man. It seemed he went out of   
his way to attract public notice to his own complete disregard for   
honor, law and personal property.   
He made the Yakuzza seem downright respectable.   
And, what was FAR worse to the Japanese mind, he did it openly, out   
where everyone could see, feeling no shame nor need to hide his acts.   
It was true worse things had been done by other Japanese, but they all   
had a sense of decorum about it. They did not stand on neighbor's   
rooftops agonizing to the world, bellowing at the top of their lungs   
about things that ought to be kept from public view.   
No, the only answer was Genma Saotome would have to die. There was   
no limit or end to his dishonor. And if you are going to be repairing   
damage from a blaze, you first put out the fire.   
But that's not what was troubling her. There were any number of a   
dozen ways to accomplish the deed swiftly and quietly. One method she   
leaned heavily toward involved a trusted forger (she had several), a   
few samples of Genma's sloppy handwriting (already obtained), and his   
body fresh enough to still be warm when black-masked 'assistants' cut   
open the man's belly. The last could most likely be obtained simply by   
having an agent offer to pay for the man's drinks at one of the many   
bars he regularly attended.   
Considering the man's tolerance for alcohol, it would be cheapest   
to spike the rotgut he drank with something special. Kodachi already   
had many options there.   
That way Genma could be 'discovered' one morning, having already   
committed ritual suicide (whether he was alive or dead to commit it   
didn't matter so long as the corpse was fresh enough to bleed when her   
assistants sliced it open), with a lengthy note admitting his past   
misdeeds were so great no other means would satisfy his remorse nor   
atone properly for them. It was true. It would also go a long way   
toward fulfilling his obligations. Sadly, it would not go far enough.   
Among the things that would not die with the man, the engagements   
ranked toward the top. No, in some cases they would even become worse,   
even harder to fulfill or put quietly away.   
While an American would stare in disbelief, obviously not   
understanding the delicate situation, all of the engagements made by   
Genma Saotome were valid claims. Even that miss Daikokuji whose father   
obtained the promise for the price of a bowl of rice, a fish, and two   
pickles. In fact her engagement was matched only by miss Kuonji's in   
strength, as both of their doweries had changed hands and already been   
spent.   
Without proof to the contrary, which she did not have, Kodachi must   
still assume that creature Genma was head of the Saotome clan, and in   
that position all decisions he made concerning the clan had to be   
carried out by its members - namely Ranma.   
In his capacity as clan head (or representing himself as such,   
which was even more reprehensible if it was a lie), Genma had entered   
into engagements with MANY clans that valued honor very highly. Highly   
enough to kill for.   
That poor Kuonji woman was a single step away from being Ronin. Her   
choices to remain a part of her father's clan boiled down to three. She   
must either kill both Ranma and Genma, marry Ranma, or commit ritual   
suicide. Any other course of action would result in her being cast out   
from house and clan, denied name, respect and honor, and even in modern   
Japan reduced to roughly the same level of a person with a horrible,   
loathsome, contagious disease; a peasant denied any respect at all in   
spite of anything she could do.   
Ukyo would be finished as a cook, restaurateur, and person.   
That Genma and his buddy constantly insisted the Tendo engagement   
must go through meant NOTHING in the face of that obligation. In fact,   
the power of the Tendo claim was virtually nil from the moment Genma   
spent the Kuonji girl's dowry. The only other girl with equal claim was   
Kaori Daikokuji, because that dowry had been spent as well, though it   
would have been far easier to replace and their clan was already being   
far more merciful on their poor girl. Discretely, of course. If it was   
found out that she'd been thrown over that girl would be in the same   
spot as Ukyo.   
Which brought her musings to why it was... inconvenient at the   
present time to kill Genma. Because while he lived he still had power   
to break certain of the engagements with minimal loss of honor. Oh,   
there would be some loss of face on both sides, but nothing like what   
would be the case trying to revoke a dead man's spoken wish. True,   
certain of those could be terminated by commands left in his Death   
Letter, but that was bad form. And while bad form would be nothing new   
to Genma Saotome, there were so many parties involved it would almost   
be guaranteed that a fuss would be raised, which could do as much or   
more harm than leaving the creature alive and breathing.   
People in comas were alive and breathing. They just didn't cause   
many problems.   
And years later they could claim he'd 'mysteriously recovered' in   
the privacy of a trusted few family members and friends, long enough to   
convey his wishes and die. His wishes, of course, being whatever they   
had decided to do to put the honor stains to rest.   
But the *best* option was for the unnecessary engagements to be   
cancelled.   
Looking over the mercenary's notes, Kodachi frowned, placing   
several documents out where she could peruse them together.   
Despite what that Nabiki woman thought, Genma HADN'T given Ranma   
any choice in Ukyo's engagement. What he'd offered was the chance to   
take her with them (and that was only if Genma's "Ukyo or Okanomiyaki"   
choice even happened. No one had any word on that but Genma's, and he   
was notoriously free with lies he felt might benefit him - in this case   
shifting blame from himself so to avoid much of the affronted Kuonji's   
wrath).   
Culture in Japan dictated the head of a family could arrange   
marriages for their family. That made Genma's promise binding even if   
he'd bargained for nothing more than old shoe leather, far more so with   
a valuable business like an okanomiyaki seller's cart, complete with   
skilled cook. Culturally speaking, Ranma had no say in the matter. A   
child was in no position to accept or refuse a clan head's   
arrangements. Only the head of clan himself could refuse it, and by   
accepting the dowry Genma did the exact opposite, forcing his son into   
a position where Ranma WAS honor-bound to marry Ukyo.   
So even if it WAS an honest choice, and that man HAD offered the   
real decision to his son, that was all meaningless because he'd ignored   
the answer by making a binding marriage agreement by taking the dowry   
anyway.   
He SAID that didn't matter, but only Genma could've broken the   
engagement, and to do that he'd be required to return the dowry along   
with generous gifts to appease the honor taint he'd committed upon the   
other clan. Ranma could do nothing about them. He was in a no win   
situation where to accept one girl rejected all others - and to reject   
a fiancee without both clans permission as well as proper compensation   
could lead not only to a break in honor, but to blood fued in extreme   
cases.   
And *several* of the clans involved counted as extreme.   
So Genma Saotome, coward and immoral being that he was, trusted to   
tradition for Ranma to take care of his father's many mistakes and   
honor taints, but had no use for those same traditions whenever it   
didn't suit his own greed. He was throwing Ranma to the lions to save   
his own hide. And by the look of the man, he didn't have a single yen   
to his name to pay off the injured clans.   
That made legal tangles as great as the honor ones. Legally   
speaking, over a dozen clans had valid claims to break the Saotome clan   
into pieces, smash it up, imprison or kill the members and consume what   
was left.   
To give him the money to break the arrangements simply wasn't   
possible, because that was the last thing in his life he would spend   
the money on, and Kodachi didn't want to fuel the fires of his   
dishonor, granting Genma even more ability to do his son public harm.   
Frowning, Kodachi put those papers aside for now.   
Shampoo was a seperate issue. When she first appeared, Ranma   
rejected her flat. Then she went back to China with Ranma thinking that   
solved the matter. He was wrong. She'd returned, having been punished   
with a curse, and still needed to get Ranma as her husband.   
It wasn't said in so many words, but Shampoo might very well risk   
an even bigger punishment if she failed a second time. So Ranma   
correctly felt responsible for Shampoo's curse. He needed to repay that   
debt, but couldn't figure out how to do so while the other honor   
commitments hung over his head.   
Kodachi's musing ended with a decisive nod of her head. There was   
really only one thing to do. The arranged marriages could only be ended   
by the one man who could not and would not end any of them. But all   
other problems could be brought to closure with the man's creative end,   
and if he wasn't going to solve any of his problems anyway, there was   
no use in allowing him to continue living.   
Genma Saotome had to die. 

The trio found Tatewaki Kuno on the grounds of Furinkan High,   
having just won a match in the regional Kendo tournament. Seeing him,   
Ukyo nodded back to Shampoo, who waited near the gym area with Ranma.   
"Airen? Is time to put to test."   
"Aw, man, do I gotta?"   
"C'mon, Sugar. You'll never learn if you don't try it, and this is   
as easy a practice run as we could rig up. Right Shampoo?"   
"Is right." The perky Amazon nodded. "Bokken Boy is too, too   
predictable. Very easy for first try. Now no waiting. Is go."   
Scratching his head, Ranma stepped out to where the   
victorious-tournament winner of the kendo matches was using a soft,   
heated towel to wipe off his face from any imagined dirt. "Uh, hey   
Kuno." Ranma stalled and tried awkwardly to look anywhere but the   
kendoist.   
Tatewaki looked up, scowling at the interruption. "Oh, Saotome.   
What evil, nefarious plot brings you to this place this evening?"   
"Uuuuuh..." Ranma shuffled his feet, in his nervousness he'd   
completely forgotten what he was supposed to say...   
"Read." Ukyo commanded, materializing at his elbow and shoving the   
script into his hands. Ranma felt really awkward, but shuffled the   
papers and tried nervously not to look toward Tatewaki Kuno.   
So he just read the script.   
"Uhh, let's see here. Oh! This is what I was supposed to say..." he   
blanched, giving a sick look to his companions. "Do I gotta?"   
"Ranma gotta!" Shampoo materialized on his other side, looking   
angry that he was flinching over such a small thing. "Amazon (even an   
amazon husband) is to have courage! What good fighting genes if mind   
weak?" (Witness how Mousse was not a hot marriage prospect.)   
"Okay! Okay! Sheesh...." Ranma fidgited with the papers for a long   
second before a twin, combined glare from both his girls got his   
attention. He coughed into his fist and tried to ignore what he was   
saying as he read what they'd prepared. "Okay, uh, ahem...   
Kuno-sempai..." he winced over the word, closing his left eye in pain   
as he read the next part. "I would like to congratulate you on that...   
ulp... stunning victory." Here the Anything Goes heir had to squeeze   
both eyes tighly closed and shudder with his fists tightly clenched   
over the sheets of paper. "Truly your... technique... has... no...   
equal."   
Ranma shuddered with pain.   
They'd explained it. He KNEW they'd explained it! It was all a   
"play on words" as Ucchan put it. It meant there ain't no one out there   
who fought like Kuno. Heck, the thought was a relief! There can't be   
*two* boneheads who made the same errors! Some of those had to be   
unique in all martial arts. And NOBODY but Kuno could hold onto some of   
those weaknesses after they'd been taken advantage of over and over...   
...and over... and over...   
No, he was okay with that. It was just the whole thing *sounded*   
like he was giving bokken-for-brains a *compliment* on his style! It   
rankled. Ucchan and Shampoo had told him the whole technique was   
_vital_ to Verbal Martial Arts, and compared it to a feint, and told   
him over a dozen times that "no equal" didn't MEAN "nothing better", it   
just meant the guy.... Arrrggghhhh!!! His brain hurt. Somehow he was   
saying somethin that was supposed ta make this guy *like* him, and he   
still couldn't figure out what, or how.   
Fortunately, Kuno was, as his girlfriends had predicted, remarkably   
easy to flatter. He stood straighter and taller, acquiring an arrogant   
smirk that Ranma immediately wanted to crush off his face. But two   
girls' hands on his shoulders kept him from displaying his normal   
reaction to what he'd always been taught constituted a challenge.   
He actually kept still as Kuno spouted off some reply, agreeing to   
how remarkable he was, and denigrating Ranma's skill in the process.   
Once the hurtful barrage was over, Ranma unwinced long enough to   
poke another eyeful of the script, held unabashedly before his face.   
Lowering it, he centered himself with a breath, and kept reminding his   
ego over and over that this was time to learn a technique, not play   
pound the stuffed-shirt.   
"Yah, uhm... look, it says here... oh! I'm not supposed ta read   
that part. Uhm, okay. Uh, yah. Ahem." Ranma played with his collar in   
nervousness until this brought his face to bear on the fuming Amazon   
beside him. A quick glance showed the other side held a mad okanomiyaki   
chef as well, both boiling over at the stupidity he was displaying.   
He sweated.   
"Real man could do this." The Amazon whispered in anger over his   
behaving like a mindless (untranslatable, but it has to do with those   
long-past villages that *don't* practice marriage hunting and so get   
inbred alot).   
"Martial Arts Tiddlywinks and Ranchan could do it, but something so   
simple even a loser like Kuno has it mastered and Ranchan starts   
sprouting panda fur." Ukyo whispered, equally angry.   
Ranma's reaction was typical, inhaling to shout that... well, argue   
pointlessly as usual. But both girls pointedly turned their backs on   
him, and *just* as pointedly turned their heads to indicate Kuno was   
still standing there, and his only opportunity was wasting. They were   
like book ends, mirroring each other perfectly.   
A challenge was something Ranma couldn't back down from.   
A look at Kuno and Ranma realized, belatedly, that his opportunity   
for doing this had almost passed, and the girls were going to *stay*   
mad at him unless he pulled this off. In fine Saotome style he went   
rushing into his second attempt, grabbing up the fallen papers he   
quickly began to read.   
"Ah, okay... Lord Kuno," he hid a wince. "Surely as the sun does...   
doth? rise, thou must realize that no common thug could meet thee."   
"The sorcerer speaks true." Tatewaki centered on Ranma, bokken held   
casually over one shoulder as he wondered what the wretch was getting   
at.   
"Uh, yah." Ranma swallowed, then focused on just reading. "Uhm,   
okay." He caught the twin glares coming his way and shaped up again,   
straightening up and clearing his throat. "Okay... Kuno! Thou must   
surely realize..." He closed his eyes as a long shudder passed through   
him, but opened them once again and began to read quickly. "Thou must   
realize that I, a noble offshoot of samurai blood myself, could...   
still... not... best... thee... if thine... heart... were... more...   
pure... than... mine." Ranma finished, sweat pouring down his face like   
blood from an open wound.   
"What mockery is this?" Kuno cried, sweeping his bokken down   
dramatically in a gesture he'd practiced for days. "Tis by foul sorcery   
thou makest mockery of my true skill!"   
Hearing *that* still wasn't half so bad as *saying* that stuff   
before it. Ranma found he was past the hard part and began gaining   
speed. "Not so." He read, eyes never leaving the jumbled papers. "For   
doth not justice surely triumph? Nay, no base criminal could have stood   
against... thee." He sweated, gulping, yet rushed on. "'Twas indeed by   
sorcery thou wast defeated, but no sorcery of mine. It was I who fell   
astray... what is that word?"   
"Bewitched." Ukyo had mellowed enough at his success she calmly   
read over his shoulder. helping him.   
"Right. Bewitched whilst off my guard. I was ensnared and forced to   
fight against thee through no fault of thine. In order to redeem my...   
flaw, I must now tell thee the true cause of thy woes."   
Kuno posed arrogantly, holding his wooden sword at the ready as if   
to strike. "As if I, a noble master of the truest form of art, could be   
deceived by such a simple lie as that."   
Sweating, Ranma pursued his reading, turning a page. "In token that   
my words are true I offer thee sole claim to the fair... Akane Tendo."   
He turned to looked at Ukyo. "Who is that?"   
Ukyo and Shampoo both looked so innocent butter wouldn't melt in   
their mouths. Little halos formed above their heads. "Oh, nothing."   
Ukyo chimed, girlishly cute.   
"Is very simple bribe. Offer not to stand in way of man with girl   
he love. No matter that you no want her anyway." Shampoo had a very   
feline smile.   
"Um, okay, I guess." Ranma scratched his head.   
Kuno was stunned, flabbergasted, knocked off-kilter, and other   
synonyms. He was facing the opponent he had fought to vanquish for so   
long willingly giving up all claim on his fiery beauty!   
It was worth a moment of thought.   
Ukyo and Shampoo both indicated to Ranma that he ought to rush on   
while the rushing was good, so he again turned to reading. "If you   
accept, then accept my word too. For I tell you... thee, that the one   
to profit from all this conflict was the one to stir it all. The one   
who caught me in a... snare? Was the same to cast her evil spell,   
trying to ensnare you by tantalizing thee with beauty she constrained   
me to say thou couldst not have."   
Ranma paled, looking over the last lines. With a sinking feeling,   
he declared. "She who played us both for money. She who grew profit   
from our conflict. The one to gain was the one to blame. The sorceress   
is... Nabiki Tendo."   
Two gleeful girls whisked Ranma away.   
Tatewaki Kuno sank painfully to his knees, overcome with shock. At   
last! It was so clear to him now! Surely, as the... warrior had said,   
it was all perfect logic! There was no way any but a samurai could beat   
him (not that he was admitting that, as yet). Only the pure in heart   
could have so fought with him to a standstill! (There, that sounded   
better.) Yet one so steeped in sorcery must be black inside and out,   
and, in justice, could only lose. Therefore...   
He could have Akane if Nabiki were the vile sorcerer? Hmmmmm...   
With awe, the kendoist realized. "Surely, the samurai Saotome   
speaks true! Who to blame but she who gained?" He rose triumphantly to   
his feet, raising his bokken to the sky. "Nabiki Tendo! For the crime   
of thy vile wicked spells, thou must surely PAY!!"   
Elsewhere, a certain brown-haired girl consulting her doctor about   
her family records sneezed. 

*****   
Having exhausted the simple, primal capability of merely humiliating   
Akane in new and interesting ways I had to explore new turf for the   
rambunctious insanity to follow. And, after a brief break, we get to   
humiliate Akane in fresh, new interesting ways! Hurray!! 

And if Kuno isn't a good start as a fiance, then what is? 


	9. Chapter 9

Shampoo's Revenge 9  
by Skysaber

Ryoga was bending over a table, his pants down by his ankles, grunting as the doctor worked, rather roughly, behind him. He was presently doused with flea powder and had a cast on his broken hand.

The Lost Boy only wished the man would stop chattering!

"Yes, I learned how to be a Proctologist in prison. The other guys all studied law, so they could sue the guys who had sent them there. But Butts! That's what interested me. Yes, I could never stop staring at them, studying them, or feeling them up when I could get a chance. Get paid for this? Oh yes! I thought: when I get out of here, there will be people, big names dropping big money to have me," here Ryoga's eyes bulged and his face tore itself into a 'this can't be happening' grimace as a particular lurch occurred behind him, "do stuff, I mean, pretty sick things, to their butts. You know?"

Hibiki stuttered as he pled. "All.. I.. w.. WAnted... was the splinters Ououoot!!! You know? I had something nasty done to me, and I... OuOUuouaaahh!!"

"Oh, no. I understand perfectly. You know what I mean? I've had some pretty sick guys do some pretty sick things to butts, their own and others, before now, and I just can't understand that. To me, butts are precious. You have to treat them fondly, with reverence even, or they'll turn on you when you least expect it. No, proctology is the only science. There are no others. It's more than just medicine, it's a sport, a hobby, and a love interest all at the same time. You know what I mean?"

If Ryoga could have identified half of the motions and sensations going on behind the raised screen separating him from his posterior and the doctor working on it, he would have felt so relieved...

... or so he imagined.

"You can get so many diseases through your butt," the doctor went on rambling. "It's important to take care of them. But most people don't properly appreciate their butts. No, doing strange and unusual things, and not even inviting their proctologist along to make sure they go smoothly and don't do any damage..."

"When will the splinters be out?" Ryoga pled, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"... where would you be without your butt? I ask you." The doctor went on rambling, as if he hadn't heard at all. "But then an ignorant sap like you goes and sticks a pole up in there probably so far it came out your mouth..."

"HOW DID YOU KNOW?!?!?" Tears of terror at the discovery sprang from his eyes at he stared back at the direction the procedure was taking place.

The doctor behind the sheet went into stunned silence.

"So that really is barbecue sauce I'm finding in there? How often do you get spit-roasted? And can you do appointments? You see, I have some friends..."

"AAAAHH!!!" Naked from the waist down, Ryoga went screaming out of that office.

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Genma Saotome staggered away from the bar, stopping every so often to pull back in the loops of slippery intestines which escaped from his grasp and spilled out of the wound in his belly.

That fight had been bad.

It had seemed so obvious to his immense genius for subtlety and technique. Get inside of the man's reach and strike too quickly to be avoided. Genma didn't fight to kill often, but he'd felt sure that if he'd struck quickly he'd overwhelm the hunter with the superiority of his training before he could get a shot off.

So, on the pretense of whispering to him, the pupil of Happosai had sidled up to the man. But no sooner had he leapt out to attack that gaijin than he'd called out a Martial Arts Big Game Hunting technique. Duck Blind Decoy, it was called, and suddenly the fat attacker was striking out at thin air.

What's worse, was that some Yakuza had been attacking at the same time from the other side, and they'd ended up assaulting each other, using secret, forbidden, and even illegal moves on each other before they even knew it.

At one point during that fight the Saotome Head had gone from attacker to tied up on a chair with his pants around his legs and his balls spread out on top of an anvil. The thug who'd caught him in this technique had bragged about Martial Arts Blacksmithing, before he'd begun to swing great big, overhand, two handed blows with a sixty pound hammer onto the only precious jewels Genma'd never been able to pawn off (although not for lack of trying).

It was a good thing that he knew damage absorption techniques. But it was also a BAD thing that he knew damage absorption techniques. What would have mercifully killed him in a single strike had taken twenty six agonizing blows before he'd slipped the knots on the ropes. He'd lost his voice from screaming, as even now the agonized organ involved was screaming to him with every step he took, having swollen to a hundred times the size it was before - why, it was almost as long as his hand now!

Rice-Man Saotome, his old middle school buddies used to call him. That was his only fond memory of school, and a big part of why he hadn't continued on beyond his first year there was how poorly the other students, particularly the girls, had treated such a grand and glorious nickname!

Couldn't they understand that rice meant everything?

Clearly there was nothing more to be learned from the institution of formal schooling if those were the types of students that resulted from it. No, his keen intellect could not be sharpened by anything that turned out such dullards. Public school was useless! (Except, of course, that it was a useful excuse for forcing his ungrateful boy to spend most of each day with Akane!)

Shaking his head at their folly, the wounded idiot went back to thinking about what had gone wrong. Surely he had no been amiss to use the Forbidden techniques to save his inestimably precious life in a fit of justifiable caution! But then the yakuza had responded and swords had gotten involved and Genma knew that it had become time to leave.

For all he derided weapons to his son, he rightly feared them. Of course, telling his boy how they made you weak was a good deterrent for preventing Ranma from ever growing up to be anything like Nodoka.

No, there'd be only one katana to fear in this family, and if the fat man had anything to say about it, he'd never see that face again. Life on the road, with no responsibilities, how could anyone wish to trade that for simple domesticity?

Casually thumping a ten year old girl over the head, Genma calmly stole her sewing kit and, after dumping out all of the girly bits, uncovered a needle and some thread.

With that, he began to seal up the gap in his stomach, wondering where he had gone wrong that his son hadn't appeared to take all of the blame and save his father from trouble.

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Akane was shaking her head. At least that police psychiatrist had listened to her when she'd explained how everything was all Ranma's fault! She'd said there was even a very good chance they could move her to a less secure facility!

One with padded walls, so she couldn't hurt herself, though Akane didn't see how she was in any danger of that!

It was only to correct that mistaken impression that she'd bragged about the new training Mr. Saotome and her dad were giving her, about the Oceanborn technique and so on. Really, they thought it was HER idea to go sneaking out of prison to throw herself into the jaws of barracudas and crocodiles and steal all of those piranha and sharks and so on!

Really, they acted as though they thought she couldn't take care of herself!

How absurd was that? I mean, so long as she had Ranma and his father and her daddy and her sisters around to rescue her, what could go wrong? Oh, and Ryoga saved her sometimes too, and once or twice Kuno had taken on someone who was going to do something horrible to her, and even Shampoo and Cologne and helped out once or twice. Oh, and Ukyo too, she supposed. Then there was Shinosuke, and Mikado, and also a few others who had saved her from monsters, blows, or nasty falls.

But really, it wasn't like she needed rescuing or anything!

All those times she'd been kidnapped, she'd only chosen to stay with them because they'd been so nice to her! And so how could she help but be nicer to them than she ever was to her fiancee or family?

Okay, so she'd hit Ranma for looking peacefully up into the sky. Why did they have to talk about that? It wasn't like he hadn't deserved it. He HAD to have been thinking something perverted. She just knew it!

Then there were those times she'd clobbered him on reflex when she had amnesia and couldn't even recall his name, or smacked him just for having a new challenger or rival or especially fiancee show up. The police psychiatrist acted as if those were a big deal!

She was gnawing through the leather straps on her, tying her down to the bed. Just as soon as she got out of there she'd be able to convince them all that she was a martial artist too!

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"So, your diagnosis?" One psychiatrist asked of another, who'd been hidden behind a one-way mirror for the interview.

"I would prefer to hear your opinion first. After all, you were her long-time physician," the previously hidden doctor asked of a third.

"Well, my field is really chiropractic medicine, and I'm not actively practicing," Dr. Tofu adjusted his glasses.

"Just give us your honest opinion. You'd know better than we if this were an isolated incident or whether we've got someone potentially dangerous on our hands."

Tofu sighed, gazing toward a window as light glinted off his glasses. "Well, in my professional opinion, Akane is an abusive person. If she can't have her way then she'll hurt someone who can't or won't defend themselves as certainly as I'm standing here. Methods vary, but verbal, emotional and physical abuse from her toward others, particularly her fiance, is near constant."

The man sighed, lowing his head and closing his eyes and he continued. "She has a fiance who suffers under a magic curse, and her treatment of his condition borders on inhuman, alternatively treating it as either a personal insult to herself, a joke to be made fun of, or proof of perversion, depending on which would be the most hurtful to Ranma at the time. She will use heavy blunt trauma as punishment for even a wild suspicion of intent to do anything she personally disapproves of, which is bad enough all on its own, but magnified considerably by her overactive imagination always sprouting excuses to imagine others being at fault, and thus hurt them. However underlying the whole problem is her complete lack of trust in trustworthy people. For example, she doesn't trust her fiance at all, to the slightest degree. She automatically assumes the worst of him in any situation she finds him in. She believes the unsupported word of HAPPOSAI and TATEWAKI KUNO over a man who's fought and sacrificed for her repeatedly. A man that she is constantly belittling and putting down or striking, but punishing even harder should he behave in the slightest way human."

Adjusting his glasses, Dr. Tofu turned back to his fellows. "Which is why I believe Akane shouldn't be permitted to go free, even with heavy medication. She is a danger to herself and her community, and, a bit like Genma Saotome, there's no bad situation she can't find a way to make worse."

"And yet, I hear she's quite popular," the doctor from behind the mirror mused.

Dr. Tofu snorted derisively. "She's been chasing me for years and I never felt any attraction, although I did have to look a little deeper to find how messed up she was. I am sorry to say that I encouraged her present fiance to try and be nice to her, telling him that she was a sweet girl, and my conscience has been troubling me for that lie ever since. I was mistaken when I thought it might do her a bit of good, and now a young man is suffering constantly for my attempt to play matchmaker. However, anyone who has any choice in the matter, or common sense (which sadly rules out most of her classmates at Furinkan), gives up on dating or marrying Akane within days of meeting her. Personally, I think anyone finds her attractive at all is a good case for mental evaluation, and the fact that her father lets her gets away with it is a major reason why I closed down my practice, so I wouldn't have to deal with their insanity or her hitting on me any longer. I am a married man."

"So, this Ryoga Hibiki she mentioned?"

"It's possible Ryoga only likes her is as a crude form of psychological warfare against Ranma. However, given the rest of his behavior, it's just as likely he's as delusional as she is. Frankly, it might be both. However, it's certain he's a danger to the community." Tofu summarized for them.

"You know we are reluctant to involve ourselves in the affairs of the local martial artists - in my honest opinion, our law enforcement is helpless against them. For that reason alone, I am reluctant to pass any kind of judgment incarcerating her." The mirror-doc added.

The interviewing psychiatrist was nodding.

Dr. Tofu sighed. "I can agree with most of what you said, except for calling Akane a martial artist. Brute force does not make a martial artist, and brute force is all she's got. Her father is, as nearly as I can tell, a complete failure who never taught her anything. What she learned, she probably got from books. And if that's the case then she obviously skipped out on all of the philosophy to go straight to the punches and kicks, because she lacks any understanding of what the martial arts are for."

Seeing he had his audience's curiosity, the generally quiet and cheerful man went on. "The fundamental concept behind martial arts is self control, and the purpose behind it the defense of yourself and others. Every teacher I've ever studied under has agreed on that. All of the respectable schools uphold it. However, Akane uses her martial arts skills, such as they are, to beat people up and strike her fiance every time he opens his mouth. She is a bully who can break things and hit people. Any five year old can do that. So that says she knows nothing of the true purpose for martial arts. As for the other..."

The doctor sighed, looking back out the window as he admitted this. "She doesn't have self control. If she had any she would dismiss any hurtful remarks or insults, because she'd know they weren't true (this does raise a point that maybe those insults hits the mark, and she doesn't like it. But instead of improve herself, she denies it, hitting the one who tells her the ugly truth). Akane hits someone who can't hit back. She does this repeatedly and often, and so reflexively by this point that it's gotten to be her most distinguishing trait. She knows he can't defend himself because he is tied by honor to protect her. That is also why she doesn't hit her rivals, because she knows they can hit back. Instead she beats out her frustrations on a man she treats as her living dummy practice."

"And... apart from the abuse? Have you noticed anything?" the psychiatrist inquired.

Once again, Dr. Tofu sighed, returning his gaze to the window so he didn't have to meet the eyes of his colleges as he tore apart a girl who'd doted on him since her youth.

But, the truth did have to be said.

"Delusional. She's always overestimating her own abilities and getting into situations she can't or won't handle. To my knowledge, she has no skills at all, yet is always claiming to be the best at whatever she does. If you want an honest appraisal, Akane is, in summary, a sadistic bitch who responds to everything, including kindness, with force. One who can't cook, sew, swim, fight, or do anything useful. To her, being a martial artist is just a pretty title, and like so much else she likes, she just takes it, assuming she has full rights to it without bothering to earn it."

The psychiatrist who'd been behind the mirror examined Dr. Tofu closely. "This might sound odd, but do you hate the girl? Is there a personal bias to your remarks?"

Ono Tofu smiled sourly. "I don't hate Akane Tendo, that would require I actually care about her." He turned back to the other doctors, noting the shocked looks on their faces. "What is it?"

Feeling a strange sense of warmth on his backside, Dr. Tofu whirled around to face the door back into the care ward, to see it had been broken off its hinges and Akane stood there, glowing with red light.

That was right before her mallet came down.

"BAKA!" WHAM! "BAKA!" WHAM! "BAKA!" WHAM!

"So your diagnosis?" Ono Tofu asked despite the bruises on his face after pressure points and a couple of tranquilizer darts had taken down the berserk female menace.

"Crazy as a nutbar," her psychiatrist nodded.

"I believe that's 'nutty as a fruitcake' Dr. Aino, and I have to agree. My apologies for sounding so harsh earlier, Dr. Tofu, but we don't often deal with a dangerous psychotic as bad as this one very often, so we had to be sure. I'd recommend long term, permanent care, and heavy medication."

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Author's Notes:

Ah, me. Can you believe that I'd actually forgotten how relaxing this was to write?

And it's so EASY too!


	10. Chapter 10

Shampoo's Revenge 10  
by Skysaber

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"Come on, Ranchan."Ukyo led her beloved inside of a nondescript house - one that he had bad memories of. "I just recently heard that Nabiki didn't know who lives here, and I wanted to make sure you weren't ignorant of the only person who's ever been a mother to me in my life."

The til-recently abused young man presently being dragged along behind his cute fiancee had some unresolved issues about this choice however, and he dug in his heels. "But isn't that the place..?"

Ucchan found herself utterly halted by the superior martial artist's choice not to move, so she attempted to resolve this issue with diplomacy. "I already told you, Ranchan, that she's been splashing you with holy water, trying to cure your curse, or at least weaken it to where other cures would work."

"And..."

Ukyo sighed and rolled her eyes. "She dresses like an old lady to avoid having her ex-husband who lives in the neighborhood recognize her. I already told you she's a master of disguise, Ranchan. She even gave me some tips on how to avoid being found out as a girl when I started to develop during puberty."

"But why would she want to avoid her ex-husband?" Ranma rubbed the back of his head in thought, gazing up to the sky and still not moving.

"Because he's an over-emotional lunatic who never had self control at the best of times and started to make her life a living hell with his outbursts and excesses." She replied in a direct tone of voice, accompanied by a flat stare.

Ranma blinked at this, meeting her gaze and grinning. "Heh, sounds like Mr. Tendo."

"It is," she admitted, at which his hair toinged out straight over having gotten it right. In a much happier tone of voice, she went on to elaborate, " It's Kasumi's and Nabiki's mom. She only stayed in the neighborhood to remain close to her children, otherwise she'd have gone halfway across the country to avoid old man Tendo. I met her in middle school, when she was teaching to help out during a bad financial spot, and she took me under her wing and became a mentor to me. Like I said before, she's the closest thing I've ever known to having a mother, and I wanted you to meet her."

Ranma gazed around, gulping and not sure of the reasons behind his own nervousness. "But what about Shampoo?"

Ukyo fought hard not to scowl. "Well, I guess we'll wait for her inside. Now come on!"

Surrendering to her pull, the boy allowed himself to be dragged inside.

"But what about Shampoo..." Ranma continued protesting weakly. Some of his best memories recently had been of the three of them together. Actually, some of his best memories altogether were of that group, and somehow it didn't feel right not to have her there.

"Oh, fine. I'll go get her. I should have figured..." the chef trailed off, mumbling about how she'd have liked to score some points alone for once and making Ranma feel bad, as he suddenly realized how very little time he'd given to his oldest, best friend since meeting back up with her again.

But the chef shouted out, "Auntie Kimiko! I brought Ranma over to meet you, but I have to run grab someone real quick. Could you show him inside?"

Then Ukyo was out the door, and Ranma was left to face the startled emerging faces of Kasumi, Nabiki and their mother.

In a flash of inspiration, the teenaged martial artist even recognized the older woman.

Ranma spoke brightly to Kimiko. "Hey, I remember you. You taught at some private school I was attending while Genma was fattening his carcass at this rich guy's house."

Kimiko bowed shallowly. "Yes, I recall. You seemed so very taken with the paints I had..."

Ranma snapped his fingers to point, looking astonishingly pleased. "Yeah! That's right. YOU'RE the one that introduced me to brush and pencil art! Man! How ya been? I can't thank ya enough. It's been the highest point o' my life." He chuckled shyly. "Though pops busted my hands in China and what with all that's going on around here they're not all that well healed yet, so lately my handwriting has stunk and I haven't done much."

Kimiko nodded, leading them all back into the family room and seating the group for a chat. "You were so very good at it, too. Tell me, had you practiced until the injury?"

Ranma nervously rubbed his head. "Yah, but pops kept throwing my sketches and landscapes an' portraits an' stuff away when he found 'em, so I've been mailing them all to a safe deposit box an havin an art dealer sell 'em all for me. I've been wanting to get some of the money out for things, but I kinda forgot the account number a coupla years ago. I tried at first writing it down, but pops almost got to it, and that woulda been bad. So I was trying to remember it in my head, but that didn't work. I got too focused on martial arts and forgot."

Kimiko had quietly sipped tea all this time. "Hmm, perhaps I can help. The art dealer is sure to know what account he deposits the money in, and the bank who owns the safe deposit box can provide you the rest of the information once they prove you are the real owner. What name do you paint under?"

"Huh? Oh. Glistening Firebrand, 'though I wrote a few books once and sent them out under a different penname."

Nabiki and Kasumi both goggled at Ranma. "YOU are Glistening Firebrand?!! The man of mystery? The artist nobody sees? The Emperor must have fifteen hundred ninja keeping an eye out for you so he can commission a work from your hands before he dies! There must be thousands of private detectives from corporations and rich clients looking for the same reason! Goodness sakes, you mean ALL this time, the random post office shenanigans, the mailings from all around the country, the postmarks, constantly changing packing materials each time, the lack of rail, tire or airline links in the paths taken between the mailing points. You mean all that mess WASN'T for deliberately throwing pursuit off, it was just because of your father's TRAINING JOURNEY???"

They goggled.

Ranma had shrank back from the verbal onslaught like it was an unavoidable attack. He sweated. "Uhm, ya mean people are interested? Why?"

Nabiki gagged. Kasumi boggled. The thought of trying to explain to him the feelings evoked by his vivid, vibrant artwork, the soaring triumphs of those hasty yet precise brush and pen strokes... it was like trying to explain Mt. Fuji. His artwork had become a national passion.

Kimiko was unmoved. She'd suspected it was him. She blew lightly across her cup of tea and then calmly asked. "So, Ranma, what was your book writing penname?"

He flinched, still not able to understand the reactions of the two girls. "Hm? Oh. That was Flowerpetal Rain."

Kimiko sprayed her tea out all over the young man.

Kasumi fainted dead away, falling into her mother's lap.

Nabiki rose to her feet shrieking. "Why aren't you living in a palace!!?!? Flowerpetal's books have sold in the tens of millions!! I've read all six of them and keep three copies on my shelf - one for reading, another for reading when the first set wears out and the third just to look at! The first time I read Heartsick I cried myself to sleep! The agent who brought your works before the publisher has ALREADY RETIRED TO LIVE OFF THE PROCEEDS OF THAT ONE CONTRACT!!"

"Really?" Ranma blinked. "Yah mean they like 'em?"

"Like them?" Nabiki mouthed, unable to believe this man had no clue how famous he was. Of the three greatest artists in all of Japan's modern era two of them were sitting before her right at this moment.

And both of them were Ranma Saotome.

"We always thought Flowerpetal was duplicating Firebrand's methods for not getting caught and suffering all the public attention." Nabiki's shock allowed her to mumble. "I mean there's been speculation they knew each other, but never any proof, and tons of folks at the university level have been debating papers about who and what those artists might be for a decade now. Nobody even thought they could be the same person. It was like asking to mix fire and water. Nobody even guessed..."

She trailed off, eyes glazed.

Kimiko had recovered from her shock somewhat. "But Ranma... Don't you mean to say you've never even seen how popular your art..." But then it struck her. He couldn't. The originals were displayed and sold at levels no humble street creature could ever possibly witness, and behind levels of security so tight not even Genma would risk it. The Kunos didn't even own one of Glistening Firebrand's works. The reproductions on TV he didn't see because he didn't ever watch TV. "But the billboards and printed shirts and reproductions." She murmured. "Surely you've seen those around. Haven't you?"

Ranma looked at her startled. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. But anybody can wind up on shirts and stuff, right? I mean, there's all that anime stuff and, you know, commercials for beer or something. I figured all that was the only junk my agent could get for me because anybody could get into that."

THUD!!

Ranma looked innocently at the pile of three fainted women, wondering what to do.

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Somewhere in his escape from that deranged proctologist, Ryoga had lost the camera.

He had also lost Japan, having left it somewhere between Iowa and the Falkland islands. As he trudged miserably through Honolulu, bewailing how it was all Ranma's fault, it began to rain...

...just as the natives decided it was time for a luau!

Standing there to greet him was Kim Chi, Master of Martial Arts Swine Cookery, grinning evilly at the piggy while knives sprouted from between every finger.

Panicked, the piglet ran, only to catch its ankle on a tiny branch that any normal pig his size could have broken through with ease, but no matter how desperately the little pig tore and pulled at it, the insignificant little fork of wood wouldn't release his hoof!

Ominous music began to play as the chef approached with fire in his eyes.

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Akane was glad for one thing, as she dragged herself down the street dressed once more in an open-backed hospital gown, bandages, and a broken half a pair of police handcuffs, an IV tube still sticking out of her arm.

Mentally waving off any thoughts of how proper psychiatric treatment had been delayed so that her multiple shark bites, injuries and lacerations from barracuda, piranha, tentacles and crocodiles tooth marks could be medically treated, she stalked down the street in a fine temper.

Once more those PERVERTS at the hospital were going to... down there! There was NO WAY they were putting tubes and... then... that other stuff, to her!

A few bandages and it ought to be fine.

Although she had stopped in her breakout attempts long enough for them to sew back on critical parts of one of her bosoms. She let them get that far before deciding that the surgeons were perverted freaks who really ought to have been jailed.

Actually, as she looked over herself, she really didn't look too bad. Whoever had been doing the stitching was a real artist, and when Happosai had broken her out, he'd given her a head to toe makeup job before she'd bonked him.

She really almost looked okay.

Hearing a familiar whistling from a walled yard nearby and imagining it to be Ranma, she instantly flew into a mindless rage and bashed through that wall.

Whereupon, the kunoichi from the Red Hot Tea House that she'd interrupted at their bath came and took Akane away for brutal training in their martial art form.

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Genma was presently dressed up as a very ugly, overly-made-up woman. While, sadly, this was not unusual for the portly martial artist, this time he had a better reason than most.

You see, judging by the fact that an elephant with a howdah on its back was following him, and doing a more than decent job of tiptoeing about and hiding behind corners whenever he glanced back that way, he judged that crazy Brit was still after him in spite of him not being in panda form at the time.

The sad thing was, that elephant was so much better at sneaking than he was at being observant Genma never would have known it was there had he not accidentally caught its reflection in a bottle of sake he was admiring (before shoplifting).

So, he'd adopted this clever disguise!

Joining a line going into a building, the portly martial artist watched out the corner of his eye as the elephant sneaked closer, then began looking around in confusion as its quarry had apparently disappeared.

Practically giggling inside at his own cleverness, Genma followed the crowd and disappeared into the building with a big sign over its doors, "Gay and Transgendered Bash Tonight!" and people whispering about a strict open-legs policy.

Big iron bars were closed down over the doors to prevent interruption as the last of the crowd disappeared inside. Genma would be three-quarters gone into the free booze before he noticed anything wrong.

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"Alright, Sugar. It's time we settled this." Ukyo posed with battle spatula at the ready across a stretch of empty street from Shampoo, who'd gladly drawn her bonbori.

"OHOHOHOHOHOHO!!" Manic laughter split across the scene as Ukyo and Shampoo got to finally have their fight, only to realize they'd just been interrupted by Kodachi. "Now, dears. It is unseemly for members of a household to fight in public. Desist at once!"

Each girl, looking down at the new clothes she was wearing, felt a sudden blush of shame. Kodachi leapt down among them, regally insisting, "Put up your weapons at once! Do you hear? A crisis has come upon us, and we must act quickly if we are to salvage our Ranma-sama's honor!"

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After several moments of thought, staring at the trio of fainted girls, Ranma picked up brush and canvas and began to paint them. They'd said they'd liked his stuff, so maybe they'd like to be in one? And if they didn't, he could always just trash the thing. It wasn't as if it meant anything. Besides, this would be a good test to see if he was ready to paint once again.

It wasn't really his hands, those had healed long ago and were as strong as ever. No, the critical problem was that since coming to Nerima he'd had practically no time alone to himself. On the training trip, his pops kept getting drunk regularly, and during those drunken stupors left his son alone.

Those were his moments of peace.

But around here those hadn't happened. Oh, his dad got drunk more than usual, as he and his friend were always celebrating something or, contrariwise, drowning their woes over whichever scheme had failed this time. But there were enough other people about, all of them who sided with his dad, that the Saotome boy didn't think he'd get away to paint anything.

Every time his pops had caught him painting, the punishments had been worse than before. And there was no creature in Nerima he felt could keep a secret, especially not if it was one of Ranma's.

He acutely regretted telling Kasumi and the others of his hobby. He knew, he didn't have to ask, he KNEW, that no sooner would they wake up than they'd go carrying that info straight to Genma and tell him all about it. And the last time Genma had caught him painting he had started threatening to cut off fingers if he ever caught him at it again.

But, seeing Kimiko here for the first time in so long, he'd just blurted out to his old teacher all about it.

The boy stewed, knowing that Kasumi barely tolerated him and that Nabiki was far worse. Between them they'd make sure every enemy he had would know all about this hobby of his inside of an hour.

Feeling sick with revulsion over his situation, and resolving that he had to leave the city over this one, the boy, who'd just barely finished his newest portrait, took some paper and began writing, pouring out his feelings on paper so he could dispel them and hopefully get some peace.

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Author's Notes:  
Time and time again I've thought, "You know, I've got to run out of material for this sometime" and still it goes on flowing.


End file.
